We Survive What We Can't Change
by scalvim
Summary: This is cannon until 'Order of the Phoenix'. Then Voldemort wins the war, Dumbledore dies and everyone assumes the death of Harry too. But he survived and is held captive by Voldemort, who gives him a choice between three very special potions.HP/LV AU
1. Prologue

~*~We Survive What We Can't Change~*~

**Rating:** M, R or NC-17, or whatever you want to call it. It will definitely have relationships and sex scenes between characters (hp/lv, and other pairings) and it's obviously SLASH, don't like it, don't read it. This is a serious story, it has a plot, and all the sex scenes have a heavy emotional significance, it will be hard to avoid them, and although I will try to identify the parts with the sex scenes, I feel like the story will lose part of its emotional value if you simply skip those parts. That said, do as you wish, just don't come whining if you are against homosexuality or sex in general, I'm not your mother or your English teacher that failed to teach you how to read ('cause I warned you about it, in writing above) and frankly I don't care.

If you are actually an intelligent person and that little rant over there didn't discourage from reading this fic, then thank you. I'm your fan and I already adore you, although I will adore you even more if you review! Please, tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is my favorite bribe for updates! Also any ideas are totally welcome!

_--Italics_ are for Parseltongue.

--**negrito** for what's written in the newspapers, engraved in doors, stuff like that, you will know.

The prologue is told from Harry's point of view, but the rest of the story won't be. Let's begin…

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**Prologue**

The first time I looked at the newspaper, it seemed to laugh at me…

From the shadows, in the middle of the cell, from where the flap in the door lies, they push some food through there once in a while. They don't want me to starve or anything, so I guess in the end, it's an improvement…

The second time I looked at it, it scared me,. I thought about what the man said when he threw it in, "…but you don't have to worry, you're never getting out of there!" and he laughed. His laughter is still rings in my ears days later. And I thought nothing else would scare me after the beating I got before being tossed in here.

But that is past, the pain is almost all gone by now, and I don't think they intended to do any permanent damage for some reason I can't think of. Besides, I got a lot of beatings throughout my life, it's not like there was something new and surprising about it. And this time, after I got captured, I was expecting it, another improvement I guess.

The third time I looked at the newspaper, just laying there in the ground, illuminated only by the single stream of light that passed through the tiny window in the wall, I felt nothing, nothing at all.

There isn't a lot of light in my cell, or space for that matter, but that doesn't bother me,. It reminds me of my cupboard. I remember that was my first thought when I was put in here.

I was placed here at about five to six months ago, I guess. The newspaper was dated three months after I was locked here, and I don't know how long ago that was. It essentially it took me sometime to actually read past the first line:

**The war is over.**

The war is over.

**The Ministry foundations crumbled this morning; most of the building collapsed. And with it, the last members of the resistance that were under siege for the past month. The acclaimed and highly dubious secret society of rebels: The Order of the Phoenix and its last supporters were finally removed from the premises, apprehended and await trial in ****an**** undisclosed location for the crimes of rebellion and high treason to the supreme ruler, our Dark Lord. **

**The Light is no more. How did the Side of the Light ****lose**** the war? Why did they lose?**

Why did we lose?

**They say they were fighting for the right reasons. **

What reasons? What reasons could we possibly have to make war? Self-defense? What the hell were we defending?

**Didn't they have all the power they could possibly want at their disposal****?**

Did we? What power? The one we would never use because we thought we could fight a war without killing people, sacrifice no lives, innocent or otherwise, a war with no deaths? We who believed we could fight this war with nothing but hopes and dreams… "oh here come our enemies, and they curse to kill, let's perhaps throw some curses back at them, but no! We must not; I mean we could harm them! Bad us! Let's throw some flowers at them instead!" Yes because we might as well have been throwing flowers with the kind of spells we were allowed to use. The truth is that we needed more people who were willing to kill. I was.

Yes, I at least can believe we lost the war… that we were meant from the beginning to lose it. And honestly, it drives me crazy… Because I was there, I fought that war, maybe I was not on the front line, true, but I was used as a trophy, a bright, cheery flag to which all the light wizards gathered to. I know how bad it was,. I saw and heard and knew all of the results of that war. The people, it's always the people that suffer the more in a war, and in this like in any other, the people ended up injured, some for life, some died and killed, were forced to kill, and for what? For a government that not even they themselves believed in? It doesn't matter, really, there's no reason for war, for any war, there never was…

Why am I thinking about this now? I've spent years purposely avoiding thinking of this, sometimes thinking at all…

**Didn't they have the support of most****,**** if not all****, of**** the Wizarding Society in the beginning of the war? They say they are making war against tyranny, oppression, cruelty.**

Did we? What were we fighting for? Realistically, did we even have a plan? Some goal, some intention? Did we even think, before we jumped? Someone said, I remember reading it somewhere: "Leap, and the net will appear"… well, what if the net doesn't? Appear I mean,. What if there was no net, but we believed so much that there 'should be'one, that we started to see it there? Was that it? Were we 'seeing things'? Trying to defend, not the world we lived in, but the one we wanted, the one we wished we lived in, and for that belief we ignored the harsher realities of our world. All the wrongs, that were there, all the things that we knew happened in our world and were considered legal, ok, even acceptable, but that were wrong and we did nothing to try and stop it… all the things we should have changed, or at least tried to change. But we were so scared of that change, even the possibility of it happening, that we turned our backs on reality and closed our eyes to the wrongs of our world… and when people, just people, everyday people, tried to show us those wrongs, we refused to see, we refused to listen. They asked for our help to change the way things were, still are, and we gave them nothing but hate, lies and mistrust… we ostracized them, we denied them and their beliefs… We lied to ourselves, I did, out of fear, because we were confused, scared, tired, depressed or whatever, we have no excuse, I don't…

Tyranny, cruelty, oppression? We were the cruel ones. By closing our eyes to their suffering and trying to oppress them when they were only trying to defend themselves and protect others from suffering their fate… we, the 'society', closed our eyes, ears, and minds to the suffering of magical children in the Muggle world. Whether in bad houses, orphanages or anywhere else, the children we should have been protecting, our so called 'future', instead we clung to the past, to our old traditions and views, and failed to save them. And when somebody, the people, came and tried to show us that we needed to change those views, we denied them and forced them to hide in the shadows, to put on masks and dark cloaks, and to fight, even kill for their beliefs… we called them monsters! Monsters, what monsters? We created those monsters.

In the end, what tyranny were we fighting but our own? Like the old muggle saying goes, 'we made our bed, and now we must lie on it'… yes people wonder how did we failed, how we lost the war, but I see it clearly. Before it even began, we had already lost.

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**A/N:** I've a beta! Actually, I've two! How awesome is that?! For me? Totally awesome!

Do you think their combined efforts to make me a better writer and this a better story are working? I sure hope so! Press the button and tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 1 About the Essence of Time

**Author's note:** Thank you so much to the three people who reviewed. The truth is I have a steady flow of fresh ideas for stories, but mostly they are only beginnings and some scenes in the middle that I'm sure I want to include. So my plan is to post all my beginnings (normally prologue and 2 to 3 chapters), and then continue to work on the fics that get more reviews. I mean I intend to finish all my fics, but will give priority to the ones with more reviews, and so far this one is it! So thank you and enjoy!

_--Italics_ are for Parseltongue.

--**negrito** for what's written in the newspapers, engraved in doors, stuff like that, you will know.

Let's begin…

**Chapter 1 **

**About the essence of time… **

If you have ever been sitting on a bare room with nothing to do, but gaze into the emptiness, (and no, that class you hated at school, doesn't count), you've probably found yourself wondering about the essence of time.

For a man in a cell, there's no pass or future. For him there's no time. And so he often finds himself thinking about time. Time is something that happens outside. It is for those who exist, and he no longer exists. At least not outside, everyone thinks he's dead. He is sure of it, that ridiculous suicide mission Dumbledore put him on had no other intention after all, he was becoming too much of a risk factor, too volatile, after Sirius death. He was expected to die young and grandiosely and become assort of martyr, an eternal 'guardian angel' and paradox of the Side of the Light. He wonders if the fates did it on purpose, but he always thought he would do a lousy angel, he certainly could never picture himself with an harp, he smiles as that thought crosses his mind, together with an image of himself with a Malfoy-like pose holding a harp, no definitely no, but maybe a sword, after all, an angel with a sword is still an angel, carrying harps or swords they are angels, but you know who is the one would like to have around in a time of need.

He could definitely use a guardian angel, right about now… a time of need, he's not even sure this could be called a time of need, he's after all in no particular danger right now, which is once again a improvement from his normal state.

He remembers thinking he had time, plenty of time, he had never done much before coming to Hogwarts, so he always felt that was the start of his life, and he'd plenty of time to live it. But time is an illusion, that we ignore while we have lots of it, and then suddenly it's gone, and we become certain that we don't have much time at all. Five months, five years, maybe even fifty years, time he can't even count inside this place, and then he would die, and then there would be nothing else. And all that time, he would spend it here in this cell; waste it here for he understood clearly that he would never leave this place alive. He would never be free again. Again? No, he doesn't think he was ever free at all.

As it happens it was only five days, not that he knew that, Harry Potter had absolutely no idea of the changes taking place over the wizarding world.

Unlike what the newspaper says there are still some bubbles of resistance all over Britain. And of course wizards around the world did not take the overthrowing of the Magical Ministry of Britain, lightly. They feared Voldemort would continue in his conquering spree. They still fear it, but for the moment that is a useless fear, for those are not his plans, for now. Let's take a look at what he did over the past five, six months Harry has been imprisoned, and is, as he already believes he is, thought dead by everyone.

So, after the Ministry was taken by the Order Of the phoenix, after Dumbledore's death, which was right after Harry's 'supposed' death in a failed Order Mission. Dumbledore had decide to lead a rescue party to get Harry back if he was still alive, a fake corpse of him was obviously produced, and properly cursed by a very deathly mix of potions and dark curses, which lead to the predicted result of Dumbledore's painful death, he really should have known better…

Either way, the order without its leader, and Golden Boy, was in a big, big mess, and I'm sorry to say easily manipulated by Voldemort, he send his spies (yep, Snape included) to mess with the order and lead them to lose their status of Secrecy, and latter on to become literally pursued by the public in general as the real causers of this war, and the obvious bad guys. To finish the brew and win this war, Voldemort only had to give his Death Eaters some good publicity, delivered to the masses by yours truly Lucius Malfoy, and add to that a spoon full of: "… we were all victims of a terrible misunderstanding, we never intended to really do any harm, sure we killed some people but they attacked us first, it was all a scheme orchestrated by Dumbledore to make us seem like the bad guys, while he prepared to overthrow the Ministry…" and the funny thing is that, people believed it, and since the Order had indeed decided to move its Head Quarters to the Ministry in a attempt to protect it, well it just made the story more believable.

Actually, Lord Voldemort could have sent his men to get the members of the Order, out of the Ministry, much sooner, but putting up a siege was such good publicity. And building an empire was so much easier with the support of the people. It was five months of good publicity and of not one manifestation of rebellion by the rest of the people, who patiently awaited the result of the siege. He got to finally have some free time to do some thinking, about what to do now that he was about to win, how to really improve the Wizarding Britain and at the same time continue to build his empire, and how to remake wizarding society to fit his ideal. Goodbye muggles and their stupid interferences with our world! (insert megalomaniac laugh).

But Lord Voldemort, current leader of the Death Eater, ruler of magical Britain, and probably most powerful men in the world, was currently thinking about something very different. Namely, a pair of very bright green eyes and how to deal with their owner.

You see, although he had won the war, Voldemort was not a very happy man. Not that he had ever thought about that, much; he was after all, a man with a mission, and little else besides it.

But Nagini had been nagging him about his mood swings –which he had always had, but seemed to be getting worse, since he had managed to capture the brat- and for some inane reason he couldn't stop thinking about the boys face, when his Death Eaters had finally managed to bring him to his presence.

**Flashback: …** His Death Eaters were in a good mood, he could hear the laughter and definitely sense the humor, and … anxiety, was it? and in the air a strange presence, there was a different magic from his death eaters in that room… how strange, well, they would soon regret whatever they were laughing about, for he was in a terrible mood, besides there was nothing to be joyful about, sure they weren't exactly losing the war, but thery weren't wining either, and that stupid order of the burning men of the old cot, was making allies as a Weasley makes babies and that pissed him off… He entered through the doors and silence fell on the chamber. Good… he walked in the direction of his throne, but when he was about to climb the stairs, he saw a body right in front of him. And, could it be? Was it? Impossible, but he was sure it was no one else but Harry Potter, golden pawn of the old cot and eternal pain in his ass! Just laying there, obviously stunned in the steps beneath his throne.

This would have been a dream come true, just a couple of months ago, but now, after the incident in the ministry, this simply was… crap- what now?- big crap…

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A/N: sorry the delay, my internet connection was crappy today.

See the little button below? Good.. go press it and tell me what you think! Come on, you know you want to…


	3. Chapter 2 Big Crap, or Bigger Crap?

A/N: Do you think my chapters are too small? Lol

Disclaimer: Guess what... what? not mine.

Let's begin…

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**Chapter 2 - Big Crap, or Bigger Crap?**

(…Continuation of the **flashback** in the past chapter…)

He had to think fast! "Lucius," he said in a calm voice without turning back or stopping, he passed over the boy's body and continued up the steps, "do you care to explain?"

Lucius immediately stepped to the front, not that he was very far away, he was always a front row kind of man, dear Lucius…

"My Lord, we have managed to capture Harry Potter," he looked up at Voldemort.

Even behind his mask Voldemort could see his eyes very clearly. Those pretty blue eyes looked slightly anxious, and that might mean nothing with any other man, but with Lucius it meant he was lying, well not precisely lying, but definitely hiding something. You see, many people believe Voldemort uses Legilimency to read his followers' minds, and that was true in some cases, in other, more precise cases, like with Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, the two men were such good occlumens that it was almost impossible for him to actually catch any of their thoughts through Legilimency. This meant, he had to find another way to figure out what they were thinking and when they were lying, so he had perfected the art of reading one's expression, and when one had no expression, one's eyes.

"I can see that Lucius, what I was wondering is how…" it wasn't a question, per se. And Lucius didn't seem very happy for having to respond at all, but with a more direct look from Voldemort, he ended up saying:

"In our last mission, in St Mungo's, he wasn't there at the beginning, but he appeared with the Weasley boy that always hangs around him," Lucius stopped for a moment. When it became obvious he wasn't going to continue, Voldemort said:

"Ronald Weasley, yes, and…"

Lucius sighed, but continued in a calm tone, "And there was a battle for a few moments, then Potter fell down," Voldemort just looked at him, "the Weasley boy shot him with a stunner in the back."

Oh, so that was the big fuss. His other Death Eaters seemed pretty happy, but Lucius had a problem with the situation - smart, smart Lucius. Yes, there was something wrong with the situation, obviously.

First, they hadn't managed to capture anything; the boy had been set up, betrayed, and delivered to them on a silver platter.

Second, and really a continuation of the first, there had to be something behind it. It was too easy, and they knew it, well, at least Lucius did. It was probably the Old Coot's plan, and to prove it, reason number three:

Severus wasn't here. And if he wasn't here enjoying the Potter brats' final capture, then it meant he was working and trying to find out Dumbledore's plan. Smart, smart Severus.

But apparently he only had two smart followers since the others were clearly overjoyed. Stupid followers, just what he needed…

Although, Lucius' problem with this 'capture' could also be an issue of honor; Lucius is a very proud man… always was… maybe he has come to respect the boy after that little incident in the Ministry and his defeat by the boy as well. Along with his very regrettable, if short stay, at Azkaban.

Oh, well… no time to wonder about that now. It was time to think about what the hell Dumbledore's plan is and how to 'transfigure the tables on him'.

And the boy… Voldemort took one more look to the still stunned boy at his feet. Crap… he also wasn't very pleased with this new development. Defeating the boy fair and square had become a sort of a crusade, and not this stupid ending… so anticlimactic!

Say what you want, but Dumbledore clearly had no style.

Lord Voldemort looked around the room. He knew what his men were waiting for, with those smirks on their faces, and denying it, would only give room to doubt, and maybe even defiance, and he could not afford that at the moment, tch, tch, tch, oh well…

"That is very interesting Lucius, and could have been told a lot faster. Accompany me to my office." Lucius nodded and followed after Voldemort. Everyone else believed that he was going to be punished, but Lucius knew better. His Lord probably just wanted to talk about the scene at St Mungo's in more detail to try and figure out Dumbledore's plans.

"As for Potter," Voldemort continued before leaving the room completely, "I'm sure you can all give him a 'warm welcome'. Nothing permanent, just keep it to beatings, and no rape - I just had the floors cleaned this morning. I have more 'permanent' plans for Mr. Potter, after all…" That would do; innuendo was, after all, one of his specialties.

"When you're done I believe we have a cell in the dungeons that is just perfect for his 'size'." He could see the smirks in some of the mask-less faces. Yes, that would definitively do. The boy would survive, relatively unharmed, and he could think about what to do with him later on. For now, killing Dumbledore and winning the war took priority.

**End of flashback. **

That had been a big mistake; he should have killed him when he had the chance.

Instead he had gone to his office, talked with Lucius, and eventually with Severus, when his spy had finally got rid of Dumbledore and managed to come.

It turned out that Potter was becoming too unstable and not very malleable anymore, since his godfather's death in the Department of Mysteries, or as Snape said it:

"Black finally did something useful… he dropped dead."

So Dumbledore decided it was about time he made sure the prophecy took place. He planned with Mr. Weasley to stun Potter in the back so that the Death Eaters could capture the boy without killing him, and bring him to Voldemort.

Dumbledore assumed Voldemort would try and fight the boy again, but this time Harry would either win or lose; either way they got rid of one problem. If Harry won, no more Voldemort, if Voldemort won, no more dangerous-asking-too-many questions Harry and they would have, instead, a perfect little martyr for their cause.

"Tch… and they say we're the evil ones," said Lucius.

"We are the evil ones," said Severus, "that just doesn't mean we are the _only_ evil ones. We do not own the monopoly for evilness. They can be evil too."

And so continued the debate on the nature of evil, as they often argued about that.

But Voldemort wasn't participating as he often did, or even listening. He was too busy thinking and rethinking about the boy and what to do with him. Since he wasn't dead he was now his problem, but he had to concentrate on winning the war and had decided to leave the boy for later.

'Unfortunately,' thought Voldemort while gazing at his garden through a window in his library, 'later was now. '

For five months had he been avoiding having to make a decision about the boy, but now he was running out of excuses to keep the boy alive. Not that he needed to give excuses to anyone, except perhaps Nagini. I mean, he was the most powerful man in the world, and an evil Dark Lord at that, but he was running out of the excuses he had been using with himself.

"Just until I defeat Dumbledore, then I will deal with him" - "Just until I have control over the Ministry and the people" - "Just after I have eradicated the Order's last members, then I will definitely…" but he never did.

The truth was that he didn't want to kill the boy, for reasons he did not even wanted to think about, but he knew he could not possibly let the boy live any longer; that was a disaster waiting to happen. If anyone found out about the brat still being alive or if he somehow managed to escape the freaking war would start all over again, and he could not let that happen… crap indeed.

The problem was that the boy was too powerful and hated his guts. And a powerful enemy can only be handled in one way: he must die.

This was his dilemma: how do you kill an enemy, without killing him?

Hum…

He had something there, an idea, not a brilliant idea, but an idea nonetheless…

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A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! You are few, but you're good! Keep reviewing and I'll keep updating fast!


	4. Chapter 3 How To Kill An Enemy

**A/N:** THANK YOU SO MUCH! For the awesome reviews! I'm happy, happy, happy! And happy me publishes faster!

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Let's begin!

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**Chapter 3 How To Kill An Enemy- Voldie style! **

_This was his dilemma, how do you kill an enemy, without killing him?_

_Hum… _

_He had something there, an idea, not a brilliant idea, but an idea nonetheless…_

An idea…it wasn't a grand idea, in fact it was a crappy idea.

Well not crappy precisely, it _was_ a bad idea, but the more he thought about it the more it seemed like the perfect solution.

How do you stop having an enemy, but without killing him? Simple.

He needed to talk with Severus now…

Meanwhile, in the dungeons, five days had passed since Harry had thought about the essence of time and for now he was just sleeping. Prison had proved to be great for his lack of sleep problem and for some strange reason he hadn't had any nightmares since he'd been locked in this cell.

At the beginning he had just assumed that Voldemort was in a very good mood since he was winning the war, so really he had no reason to go around torturing Death Eaters.

After a while he began to realize that the other nightmares that used to plague him, for as long as he could remember, like about his uncle beating him, or the dark figure of Voldemort in the forbidden forest in first year, the basilisk in the chamber in the second, the Dementors in the third, Cedric's death in his fourth year, Sirius death just last year, and so many other nightmares in between were all gone. Not that he couldn't remember them anymore, he could, and he thought about them often enough. It was his way to honor them, by thinking of them. His memories were something he treasured very much since they had, in a way, made him into who he was today, even if they were mostly of sad or terrifying events and hadn't 'made' him into a very sane, happy person. In the end he doubted he would have ever became a sane, happy person after his childhood, even without the events at Hogwarts every freaking year. Seriously, facing terribly life threatening situations every year was damn too much! I wanna see you turn out normal and sane and all happy, happy!

Even the freaking nightmares and stupid mind connection with Voldie-no-nose-mort weren't exactly contributing for a healthy growth of a jolly personality!

It's not like he wanted to have a crappy personality, depressive episodes, and mood swings!

Either way his mood had improved greatly with some good night's sleep, but the absence of real nightmares while he slept and his nights of good sleep had also made him wonder if perhaps Lupin had been right, and what he feared most was fear itself.

And now…now he had no fears, like he had no nightmares, because he was not scared anymore. He had no fear left, for when you are about to die and know it, what's there to fear?

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Severus Snape paced around his lab like a caged tiger. His mood had been incredibly good these past months after the Orders' last members had been captured and he no longer had to play both sides. Yes, he was in a very good mood after that, not that anyone but his closest friends, and perhaps Voldemort himself, would have been able to see it. But everything had changed drastically in the past hour. His Lord had come to have a little chat with him, after which his good mood had crashed and burned.

To make it all worse Lucius was sitting in a chair in his potions lab, trying to talk to him and improve his mood - the bastard!

"Oh come now Severus, it can't be that bad," Lucius said from where he sat in Snape's favorite chair, resting his elbow on the table in front.

"It can't be that bad? It can't be _that_ bad?! Are you insane Lucius? We should kill him now that we have him cornered!" Snape stopped and glared at Malfoy.

"Well, you must admit it doesn't sound very fair…" started Malfoy

"Very fair? Why the hell would you want to be fair? Since when are you a Gryffindor?" interrupted Snape, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"Don't insult me Severus. What I meant was that it sounds like we could only kill him because he _is_ cornered and we weren't even the ones who cornered him. It's a bit like, we didn't actually win, we didn't lose certainly, and we may have won the war, but in the 'war' against him we kind of didn't win. And if we didn't win, it sounds a lot like we lost, you know? And I'm a really sore loser, as is our Lord," replied Lucius, while calmly tapping his fingers against the table.

"Do I look like I care? This is stupid, and he will regret this…we will _all_ regret this!"

"Oh, you're exaggerating, and Potter could always take the poison, right?"

"He won't, I know he won't and so do you. He lives to torment us!" and with that Snape marched into a black wall in the corner by the fireplace.

He then tapped a small space in the corner that looked exactly like the rest of the wall with his wand, causing an entire section of the wall to grind ponderously aside.

There was a carefully chosen assortment of things in several shelves, mostly potions vials, but also strange, rare ingredients, some old books, papers, several small chests, tools, empty bottles, and a small copper cauldron.

With an angry frown he chose two potion bottles, grabbed an empty vial and one of the small chests then, after making sure it was empty, he carried everything to the table.

As Lucius raised an eyebrow in amusement, Severus glared once more before he strolled over to a door in the left corner of his potion lab with the empty vial.

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Harry was awakened as the door to his cell opened and as the locks slid back in their well-oiled grooves he wondered, once again, what it would be like to die and considered the thought that it couldn't be much harder than living.

One of the guards stunned him, no use taking any risks of him escaping, (you did not want to be the guard that left Harry Potter escape, believe me you didn't…) and dragged him to the interrogation chamber down the corridor.

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When Harry came to the only thing he could see was a large portion of dark wood. He stared at it for a while and then he lifted his head.

He was in an antechamber of sorts, sitting in a chair. Around him were dark grey walls made of stone and in front of him there was the table his head had been on before he woke up. In front of the table there was another chair and at a small distance away, on the wall behind it, a door made of stone, which seemed to blend into the wall around it, stood. He chanced a glance behind his own chair and was rewarded by the sight of absolutely nothing but a plain, dark, gray stone wall.

Charming…

He stared at the equally dark grey stone ceiling, also void of anything remotely interesting for about five minutes before considering the possibility of getting up. Just as he was about to rise the door opened and in walked Voldemort, followed by Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Harry observed calmly, as Malfoy and Snape positioned themselves on either side of the, now closed again, door. Voldemort sat in the chair in front of him and placed a small chest on the table.

Harry waited patiently for anyone to speak, and as no one did, he resigned himself to staring at the chest. It was made of dark wood and was about the size of a box of cereal. It was encircled by silver lining and there was a line that crossed it in the middle along with a silver lock. Voldemort's voice interrupted his line of observation.

"You can open it if you want to, it's not like it is going to kill you," the smirk that followed this sentence was pure evil.

Harry finally took his eyes off the chest and looked at the man who currently ruled magical Britain, and would soon enough kill him. It crossed his mind that he should begin to become scared about now.

He tried very hard to summon the feelings of terror he normally associated with Voldemort and failed miserably. Apparently he was completely bewildered by the absurdity of the moment, so taken aback, in fact, that he couldn't even feel surprised.

His life was always strange, but sitting in a bare room after being locked in a cell for the past five to six months, hearing He-Who-Lived-To-Kill-The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die mock him was a new low, even for him.

So he opened the chest and stared at the two bottles inside. Above a dark red fabric there was a green potion and an amber one.

He looked at Voldemort, raised an eyebrow, and sighed.

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Are you going to make me ask? Can't you just kill me now?"

There was a sound from the door that seemed remarkably like a snort.

Voldemort looked bored, "Yes and no."

Crap…"Fine…what are these?"

"The green one on the left is simply a fast-acting poison that will take your life in about five minutes. The one on the right will make you lose consciousness for the next month. If you don't take an antidote during that time, which you won't, it will divest you of your magical core."

"It does what?" said Harry turning the bottle around his hand.

"It turns you into a muggle," Voldemort said as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

He took his hand off the bottle immediately as if it had burned him.

"Oh…and why is **that **here?"

Voldemort grinned evilly as he rested his elbows on the table and crossed his fingers "I thought you'd never ask. After much consideration in how to deal with you I've decided to give you two options," he said with a gesture in the direction of the chest. "Potion number one or potion number two." At Harry's stunned look he proceeded, "Consider it a testimony of my… _appreciation_ for your inane ability to continue to exist."

"Ah…" he was not stupid; he could see the irony in Voldemort's words. It sounded as if Voldemort couldn't kill him for some reason, and so the Dark Lord had gone for the next best alternative: he wanted Harry to kill himself, and by his own choice too. It was very smart - why risk him managing to pull some other stunt when they tried to murder him? It would be so much easier to let him do it, while they watched from a safe distance.

Damn, in a way he had been expecting a final confrontation of sorts, to die with a fight, _something_. Or maybe he just had been hoping for an alternative, yet there was one, but it was almost like torture. No, it was torture, and he bet the sadistic bastard was enjoying this.

Oh yes, Voldemort knew perfectly well that he would never chose the potion on the right; he would rather die than be a muggle. He'd never been happy in the muggle world, not even for a second, and magic was more than something he could do…It was something he **was**. Magic was as much a part of him as life itself - it was all he had.

He sighed.

"I don't suppose I get an option number three?"

And Voldemort smirked again; this was going better than planned.

"Actually…" And as Harry looked up completely puzzled, Voldemort picked up another potion from his pocket and thoughtlessly placed the vial on the table.

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A/N: yes, I'm evil, I know… why don't you press the pretty button below and tell me how evil I am? The First 5 reviewers, who ask, get to know what the third potion is…


	5. Chapter 4 The Freedom Of Choice

**A/n:** thank you so much to all my wonderful reviewers and my guardian angel and awesome beta: SetsunaX!

The award for best review this time goes for: Meidai

--Girl you rule! I'm utterly thankful! Hope you like the chapter!

I hope you ALL like the chapter and review! Well this chapter was going to be up last Friday, but real life caught me once again!! Nothing I could do!

My PC went on strike! But it's working again, and now I just have to answer all the reviews (once again if you can put the story on alert and on your favorite's list you can also review! So go do it!) and write new chapters! Finally, 5 days without my PC and I thought my plot bunnies were going to eat me alive! Like a giant carrot!

**Let's begin…**

**Chapter 4** **- Freedom of Choice**

"_Actually…" And as Harry looked up completely puzzled, he picked up another potion from his pocket and thoughtlessly placed the vial on the table._

The vial… it was definitely strange.

'Bizarre' was the word that came to mind. Yes, there were several strange things about this vial and the potion it contained.

First, it had the oddest color. It was white, pure, pearly white - the kind of white that hurts the eyes if you look at it for too long. Like Harry was doing right now, before he had to look away or his eyes would start to dampen and fill with tears.

The second strange thing about the vial was the atmosphere around it. It had an eerie feeling to it. Spooky, it was plain spooky, and he had seen some spooky things in his life, so he knew spooky when he saw spooky!

The strangest thing though, was the way Voldemort had simply placed it on the table without a second glance, like he didn't care, either for that particular potion or for the fact that he was giving Harry a third choice. Truly, the whole scene was weird and made little sense to Harry, not that many things in his life made sense really, he should be used that by now, but it was almost as if Voldemort wanted the potion to go unnoticed. Like it didn't matter that much and was only produced from the inside of Voldemort's robes for the simple benefit of fulfilling Harry's request for a third potion, and maybe it was.

Problem was… the potion in itself didn't seem to back up that idea, with all the spookiness…

Did he want to know? Really?

He was pretty sure that if he just took one of the first two potions right now, and he bloody well knew which one it would be, he would die and never have to know what, exactly, was the torture Voldemort had devised with that potion, because it was a torture; a new way of tormenting him.

He was certain of it, and he didn't even want to know just so that he wouldn't have to admit to that man, to either of those men, and above all, to himself that he would rather drink the poison, die and just give up and be done with it.

Could he handle the curiosity though? More than that, could he ignore the little ray of hope that he had been searching for, for all his life and had never found, and by the looks of it, never would?

He knew that if it seemed too good to be true, then it was…

He was certain that if it could end up badly for him, it would…

And yet he continued to hope… to wish… to wonder…

What if it could happen?

What if it could be that way?

What if he didn't have to suffer every time?

What if it was this time?

What if for just this once…?

Hence his problem, his apparently, eternal problem. After all, this was the thing that always kept him going, and getting into more trouble! Crap, if it wasn't for that annoying little thing called hope, which he appeared to have ludicrous amounts of, he would have given up ages ago, and probably be dead by now! Thus he would never be in this mess in the first place, or have to make this stupid, stupid, cruel choice… Ah!

What did it matter in how he got here? He had a choice to make, well, two choices actually, but in reality it was only one, for if he admitted to himself that he could want something besides death then it really didn't matter what the hell was in the vial. If he chose to know what was in there he would also be admitting to himself that he didn't want to die. And the second potion, the muggle one, for him to become a muggle… he might as well be dead. He was sure he would die too.

So could he take a chance on life, on _wanting_ life? Really he had never had a choice before on wanting to live. He was supposed to live, he had to or the muggle world would crumble and die with him, no pressure, huh?

Could he choose life, or better yet, could he ignore the possibility?

No, he couldn't. He was a dreamer right to the end, and he would die as dreamers always do - flying up high, then crashing and burning.

"What the hell is that crap?"

"Language," Voldemort said, raising an eyebrow. "If you ask properly I will tell you."

"Fine, may I be informed as to the nature of that crap?"

There was another snort from the direction of the door behind Voldemort. Harry couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn it sounded a lot like Snape.

"I guess that will do," Voldemort replied with a sigh. "It's exactly what you asked for, a third option, right? As to the exact nature of this 'crap', as you so appropriately phrased it, well that is the catch."

Harry rolled his eyes at that, and Voldemort continued. "Yes, you know there must always be a catch. I cannot tell you of this potion. What it does or even what it is. It's really just another choice. I hadn't even considered bringing it up if you hadn't asked for a third option."

"Well, since you seem so considerate to give me whatever I ask, can't you just let me go?"

"No."

"Or kill me, really? That would also be fine." Harry tried to manage a wishful look.

Voldemort just smirked, "Now Harry, and where would be the fun in that?"

"Me, dead? Like finally. You always seemed to find that funny before! What? Is my impending death somehow diminishing the funny-factor in this?"

"Really Harry, with a tongue like that it's really a wonder how you've gotten this far, I do wonder…"

"Really, 'cause if I remember correctly you were there a couple of times. I can give you a reminder if you need?"

At that Voldemort seemed to lose his patience and snapped. "Just pick one damn potion, already! I've more things to do! Ruling the world and all! I've plans for August!"

At that Harry just grinned and muttered "Language…"

Good, he had gotten a rise out of his enemy, which meant he wasn't the only one going through the trials here, good.

That somehow made him feel better, not that it mattered very much truly, but still knowing he wasn't just another death in the big Lord's life, as it had seemed from the moment Voldemort had stepped into the room, made him feel just a tiny bitsy bit better.

Now on to the choosing. Not telling him the effects of the third potion was a master's touch. Quite genial, he couldn't pick based on 'wanting that' or 'not wanting that'. It came down to the choice he had thought of already before, life or death, excluding, obviously, the muggle thing. Not that there was anything that assured him that the third vial wasn't simply a fancier poison and wouldn't kill him either way, but he doubted it.

Not that it mattered either; he wasn't supposed to chose with life as an option, but merely with the possibility of it.

The mere choosing, in fact, was an act of cowardice, or could be seen as such. It wasn't for Harry though, and he wasn't having such a hard time choosing because he was scared of death.

No, he was taking all this time and thinking all his thoughts, simply because he had already made his choice on an instinctive level and was trying to come to terms with it.

I once asked someone what freedom of choice was, and got the funniest response. As it happens it comes as a funny coincidence that that same definition was exactly the conclusion Harry got the precise moment before he picked one of the bottles:

"Freedom of choice is that you can make the decision to do whatever you want. Even if it isn't what you should do, if it isn't what others expect of you, even if it is a bad decision, or if you may be punished for it, you still had the freedom to make that choice."

And as he drank the potion he had picked he thought gingerly, "…it was my choice, and that's all that matters…"

And the pearly white liquid continued on its merry way down his throat.

Leaving us to wonder, as Voldemort often did in the many months following these events, if Harry had known that it was a 'memory potion' and that it would erase a fairly large portion of his memories, would he have still made that same choice?

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**A/N:** really sorry about the delay in this chapter, promise the next one will be much faster; also it will finally have some decent action!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Some important advance to this story line! Finally! but if you really want to ensure I will update faster, well then you just have to press the pretty button bellow… then again, freedom of choice you know? XD oh! And spoilers for whoever gets the "I've plans for august" comment!


	6. Chapter 5 Bad Habits

**A/N:** Thank you again my faithful reviewers! You shall all be happily rewarded with fast updates and lots of sarcastic replies!

About "I have plans for August"; in the last chapter, the quote is actually from the movie Hercules from Disney! I was watching it the other day with my younger brothers and that scene in which Hades says this quote hit me as what I should do regarding Voldemort's attitude when giving Harry the potion. I'm sure that if you ever saw the movie you remember perfectly well the scene in which Hades the God of Hell convinces Hercules to stop having his powers only for a day, and when watching I got quite fascinated in how he used the timing, making Hercules chose really fast so that he couldn't really think about all the possible repercussions of his actions, but he also made it all about it being Hercules choice, after all that was the only way he could really lose his powers, if it was out of his own free will. Hades also made sure it seemed like he didn't really cared about what Hercules choice was, but inside he was plotting for Hercules to agree. I adapted it to my Voldemort, since I couldn't really see him showing how much he wanted Harry to take the potion. But you'll see voldie's entire plan... next chapter lol you'll understand when you finish this chapter, and then you can curse me to eternity!

This is like the Author's note of hell! Huge!

**Let's begin!**

**Chapters 5** Bad Habits

…

"Ah! I knew it! Pay up!" said Snape from the direction of the door.

Malfoy just rolled his eyes and fetching his purse, passed a couple of galleons to Snape's hand.

Voldemort observed the exchange calmly with the look of someone who was obviously very used to these antics from his right hand man, and his left hand man.

"You know, someday this 'betting on everything' habit you have going on, will come right back at you and bite you in the arse."

The two men just stared at him and chanted in chorus: "Yes, my Lord."

"Don't spoil it!" Voldemort said, they always managed to suck all of the subservience out of the 'my Lord'… evil men! Spoiling his hard earned title! If they weren't so freaking useful… he probably wouldn't kill them either. I mean all Evil Overlord's must have minions, and one gets tired of stupid, subservient minions after a while, after all obedience has it's good and bad side, especially blind obedience, which was as dangerous as it was useful, and there was no point making a stupid mistake simply because everyone failed to point it out to him. He wasn't stupid or arrogant enough to believe he knew everything, at least not anymore, after that Potter-baby incident he'd decided to take a different approach to the all 'seeing his own flaws'. He had acted on a whim, simply because he had been insulted by Dumbledore's faith in a dim-witted prophecy. That had been a misunderstanding that he wished someone had pointed out to him, even if he probably wouldn't have listened there was always the possibility he would have, or the thought that it could be a trap may have crossed his mind. Damn, no use dwelling in the past, 14 years as a bodiless spirit had give him perspective, and in his new perspective, a couple of highly intelligent and useful, if not so obedient, minions were worth the trouble. Still they had no respect!

The two men smirked at each other.

They knew their value to their Lord relied precisely on the fact that they weren't subservient because that also meant that they weren't always compliant with his choices, and would even question him on occasion, with the due level of respect, of course, and even so they did risk a couple of cruciatus curses every once in a while, but after all what was a little pain to grown men? They could handle it and it was indeed a small price to pay for the right to question their Lord and take such an important part in the revolution he had devised.

They are after all his right and left hands, and those were positions of trust, highly sought after and richly rewarded.

Lucius Malfoy was Voldemort's public façade, an absurdly rich pureblood, with the perfect family and the right influence, and now that the war was over, he knew perfectly well the part his Lord had devised for him; he was to be the minister of magic. Magical Britain needed a good figure-head, to pass an image of union and Malfoy did represent all his_ ideals_ for this country and its people. Besides the people with power that had managed to survive the war would have difficulty obeying him, even if he had convinced most of magical Britain of his status as a innocent man, (only a victim of Dumbledore's manipulations, as were all of them and blábáblá), he had been, and still was, the icon for the Dark Side, no point forcing the situation when it was much simpler to let Lucius give the commands, his commands mind you.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy, was the perfect right hand, and he was so good with manipulating people to do what he wanted, that in the end, regardless of power or status, they ended up doing his bidding, which meant of course Voldemort's bidding!

His most genial_ acquisition _though had been Severus Snape. Because men like Lucius were, if not easy to find, at least there was quite a feasible amount of them around if one looked hard enough, you see, Lucius was so absurdly good at his job, simply because he enjoyed it. The manipulations, and the power displays, or maybe he just enjoyed getting what he wanted, either way he was that good, a little puppet master, quite amusing if you weren't the one on a spring. Indeed he controlled the little puppets he made, with the ease and efficiency of a master. As for Voldemort himself, he was God, and he controlled the puppet master.

Moving on to his other_ acquisition_, Severus Snape was one rare, rare man, he was so rare in fact, that it was a bit of a miracle that Voldemort had gotten this man's loyalty. Well, maybe not his complete loyalty, because Voldemort seriously believed that Severus Snape was loyal to no man but himself. Either way Snape was not a man you wanted as your enemy, or working against you, he was scary. Really, he (Voldemort) thought there were few people who could match his level of scary, and Snape could, it was a different scary though, you had to know it was there to see it. Basically it was simple to explain Snape's type of scary, when comparing it to let's say, Lucius type of scary. Lucius could hate your guts and still smile pleasantly at you, and he would do it so well you would never believe he was plotting your painful demise in his head. Now, Severus was a different case, he wouldn't smile at you if he hated you, then again he didn't need to, instead he would act, many people believed Severus to be a man of few actions and many thoughts, and indeed he was, when you compared the amount of actions to the amount of thoughts thoughts won every time, but when you compared the nature of those actions, you got a bit of a surprise, Severus Snape was a man of action, that which Voldemort liked to call, a man with a plan. His actions weren't of the type to stab you in the front or even in the back; they were instead based on a plan. He planned it first, and then he would completely become what he needed to be to fulfill his plan. The scary part for Voldemort was the way he did it, whatever it entailed, he would do it, and he didn't need to change his personality or lie to do it. Actually that was why he was such an accomplished Legimmens, he wasn't really lying, and he truly believed he was the persona he created. Scary…

Want an example? Voldemort had always been aware of Severus abilities, but only recently, well after he had come back had he seen the extent of Snape's abilities.

You see, going to Dumbledore and telling him he was terribly regretful about telling Voldemort about the prophecy was Voldemort's plan, he told Snape to do this, simply because it made it easier to find the Potters, they had no idea of course where they lived, but it was simple enough to get inside Dumbledore's little army, and once he was there how remarkably easy it was for Snape to get Wormtail to spill he was the Potter's keeper, actually Snape was the reason he was the Potter's secret keeper in the first place, after all he had spread, following his lord's command, the little seeds of suspicion inside the order members' heads.

It was a quite genial plan of his, if he might say so, after the seeds had been planted he just had to wait for them to grow and the fact that Peter Pettigrew was chosen to be the keeper, was just a lucky, but quite reasonably expected, event. Then Snape had used his special talents to convince he was much better off with the dark side.

Yes, Voldemort had know Severus was good at infiltrating himself wherever he wanted, and at getting people to believe only exactly what he wanted them to believe. But what he hadn't known was exactly _how good_.

Once he (Voldemort) had _disappeared _Severus had realized he needed someone to watch his back, to make sure he wouldn't end up in Azkaban as many others did, since he didn't have Malfoy' fortune another plan was in order, and what better way than remaining exactly how he was? So he became a spy for the light, didn't lie about anything, it's not like there was a Dark Lord to provide him with a good let out for his darker urges, anymore. Torturing students would have to be enough for a while, sure Snape hadn't thought he would have to be on the Light's Side for so long, but it wasn't really a problem. He was who he was, he didn't change it, and he didn't have to. Yes many believed he was a death eater, they were right obviously, but he didn't need to lie about it, if confronted he would be the first to admit it. His mask was that good; he was so deep into it that sometimes, he even forgot it was a mask.

As he often said: "You do anything long enough to escape the habit of living  
until the escape becomes the habit."

And that was exactly what was scary about it, he created a story, a life, and he lived it, utterly as if it were his own, deeply into it. In a way it was his life. He wasn't necessarily happy, but that wasn't the point, the point was survival. The rest was adornments.

Voldemort found himself wondering sometimes if Severus was _really _what he saw or if that too, was a mask. Scary…

It was useless to think about it though; it was not as if he was going to find out if Severus didn't want him to. Besides Severus was on his own side, but supported whatever side pleased him most, and for now, that was the Dark Side, Voldemort's Side, so it was all about keeping him there. Once again scary in its simplicity.

For that he had made Severus Snape his left hand man, his controlling yet unseen hand. He would make him the new Headmaster for Hogwarts, the children are our future after all, and the right education was very much needed. Besides Severus agreed with all his beliefs about the magical children, muggle-borns should be taken from the muggle world and put into ours, at birth. They would no longer be muggle-borns because they would be raised in our world and would feel no need to ever go into the muggle world. He admitted it was necessary to renovate the blood and gene pool, they were fresh magic and regeneration is essential for our world but the muggle world should be completely separated from the magical one. No more breeding of wizards with muggles, it only created problems for our world.

Besides as the Headmaster he wouldn't actually have to teach anything and to be perfectly honest he knew for a fact that Severus hated to teach, and was a horrible teacher. Also this way he would get the necessary free time to continue with his research in his preferred field: potions.

The fact that his right and left hand got along so nicely was really just a lucky coincidence and a much appreciated one. For as different as their personalities were they had many a similarity, they trusted each other in the way men who don't trust anyone do. The fact that Severus had become Lucius son's Godfather had come as no surprise to him. Also he was pretty sure Severus cared about Lucius and about his godson, he was human, somewhere, deep down. It's a good thing he didn't pick his followers by their humanity.

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**A/N:** Crap! I really wanted action in this chapter… next one! Definitely! This totally got out of hand, I realized I had to explain my two favorite secondary characters, which are Luc and Sev, they are funny and they do have a major role in this story! So I started to explain them and got lost on how complex they are to me. And I have a limit of 2500 words by chapter. And a minim of 1500. It's the equivalent to three pages on my word program on the pc. Really most of my chapters will be around that length, after that I get lost in the characters and they start to get a life of their own that sometimes destroys the tempo of the story. Please tell me if you feel I destroyed the tempo for this story!


	7. Chapter 6 Beyond Door Number Three

**Disclaimer: **I missed a couple of disclaimers… and that's a crime, 'cause nobody knows I'm not JK Rowlings, even though I keep misspelling the name of the curses. XD

**Author's note: **Hi there faithful readers! Thank you again for the reviews, and yes I received all the angry death threats to do some action and moving on with this story! So here it goes!

Also, to reviewer WhyDoesAWebSiteNeedMyName

- Here comes Inky!

**Let's begin…**

**Chapters 6 **beyond door number three…

…

"So how long do we have?" Voldemort asked turning in his chair to face Snape.

The man's face was immediately serious.

"About 48 hours, give and take an hour or two. It really depends on one's magical power, and on the strength of one's mental shields."

"And since it's_ him_?"

"About 36 hours…" Voldemort rolled his eyes, "You're betting for this to fail aren't you?"

"Yes! This is stupid. Regardless of how you look at it, there's no reason to keep that boy alive." Snape answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest and scowling.

"But _regardless _of how you look at it, it is _my_ command, and if I find you tried in any way to sabotage it you shall feel my displeasure, both of you shall."

Lucius stepped in the conversation then, "My Lord, I suggest we postpone this interesting conversation about your plan's sense or lack of it, to a latter, more appropriate date".

"And, as always, you're the voice of reason Lucius." Voldemort said, internally smiling at Lucius.

He knew for a fact that if Severus was betting against his plan, then Lucius was betting in its favor, he could count on Lucius as an ally for this plan's success.

"Inky!" said Voldemort, and a domestic elf, dressed in a black little outfit of sorts, popped in the room.

"That which we had talked about has come to pass, as you can see," he gestured with a hand to Harry's sleeping form over the table. "You know what to do from now on. For now, please transport Mr. Potter to the quarters prepared for him." You may find it strange, the way Voldemort spoke to his domestic elf, but he had learned the value, or at least the utility of domestic elves during the past years, blind obedience did have its advantages at times, and they were damn useful.

"Yes master, will master's guests be wanting tea, while they wait?" the creature, Inky, said addressing the two other men in the room.

Malfoy just snorted, but Snape smile pleasantly at the elf and said: "yes Inky, but in the parlor if you please, and could you get some of those delicious scones you make, too?"

"Yes Sir, of course Sir. Inky will be happy to." The elf babbled with delight, before it popped out with Potter.

"I never get it, how you can manipulate my elf in doing whatever you want, supposedly she should obey only me."

"It's Magic", said Snape with a smirk.

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Harry Potter was sleep, or better yet in a state of coma in which he appeared to be asleep, and would remain so for the next 36 to 48 hours.

He was also no longer in the dungeons but in a beautiful bed made of dark wood, an unusual headboard with runes craved in it and all around him, curtains of red damask.

The room, his 'quarters' was large and magnificent in its grandeur. There wasn't that much luxury beside the bed and scarce furniture, what made it so magnificent was the comfort that appeared to radiate from everything. From the huge fireplace that occupied most of the left wall of the room, to the bed against the right wall, in the between there was the door to the room with several chests from each side, and on the wall opposite to the door, the first thing anyone saw as soon as they entered, there was a enormous window, in fact it was the junction of three large windows in one, and below the windows there was an adorable stuffed bench all around covered with pillows, in fact there were pillows pretty much every were, from various sizes, smaller ones on the divan and the bench by the window, also over the chest at the foot of the bed, and larger ones by the fireplace. They also varied in colors from dark damask, to bright ruby, to black and finally emerald green. On the left side of the window there was a huge worktable and its chair, on the right side of the window there were several bookshelves covered with books, all the furniture in the same dark wood with the runes carved designs from the bed.

The boy that 'slept' in the bed had no idea of the time that had been devoted to the creation of this room of course, but then again, few had. He also had no idea of the three men that were now around the bed discussing his future.

"Ok so explain to me again how I do this." Voldemort began.

Snape growled. "You asked for this potion and you don't know what it does?"

"No, I asked for _a_ potion, and I know _what_ it does, just not how to get it to do _it_…_"_

"Same thing! If you are not sure we should…"

A laugh rang clear trough the room, the two arguing men turned, in the direction of the sound. Lucius was laughing and holding his stomach, when he noticed the two men staring at him with angry scowls on their faces he covered his moth, inhaled deeply and said: "That's not going to work Severus, even if he is not sure, he will do it, because backing off now, would be too much like giving up. You should just give up and cooperate." For Snape's ears only he added, " For your own sake Sev, he's gnashing his teeth, soon enough he will be fuming and you know what it comes after that."

"Fine, whatever…" said Snape but he kept scowling.

"Besides, I too want to know what this mystery potion of your does. "

"Simple really," Severus began stepping into his teaching mode. "The potion which you ask of me my Lord is called_Memoriam Solutio_, but you can't use it because it's not what you really asked for, you asked me for a potion to erase one's memory, but what you meant was to erase a series of select events, not all of his memory…"

"It doesn't exist, then how…?"started Voldemort.

"If you are going to interrupt I'm not going to tell you."

"Wanna bet on that?" said Voldemort with a smirk.

"Behave you two, continue Severus" Lucius said with a sight.

"Since the beginnings of time, we, wizards and potion masters of the world have created several memory erasing potions, always hitting with the same problem, that makes them unpractical: We cannot erase separate events, for that we use spells such as 'obliviate', the problem there being that with a little resistance from one's mind, the subject of the spell can regain his or her memories, because they weren't truly erased, just forgotten. As I said, this potions affects all of the memories because we cannot separate events inside one's head, which creates a problem, because the subject that ingests the potion forgets all their memories reverting back to the mental state of an infant with no recollection of how to speak, eat, walk, etc."

Voldemort seemed to want to say something but Severus ignored him and continued: "But since I'm not dense and realize that that was not what you were seeking my Lord, I remembered I had read about one particular potion that could work in this case, after some researched I found it, it is the potion which is in the base of all the research made in this field, but I also found that it is no longer used for its lack of practicability."

Once again Voldemort prepared himself to say something and once again Severus totally ignored him and continued: "its lack of practicability consists on the conditions necessary for its use, it must be taken of one's free will. Stupid I know, but understandable after you realize the reason why it was created; besides it makes for a good measure to assure it can't be forced on anyone. This potion is called _Lysbon's____Memento vivere_, there's quite the story about it; it was actually created by a woman, a queen from long ago, when wizards were still ruled by kings, and the several kingdoms fought one another. Legend tells she was faced with a hard choice, when she had to renegade her kingdom and family for the man she loved. She chose to follow this man and be queen by his side, but she could have no contact with her the loved ones she left behind. She left all she had and it was a painful separation, she was a brave woman, she was also a potions mistress or the equivalent to it at that time, so she created a potion to erase all her memories of what she left behind so she could live her new life."

"Very pretty, can we move on? What's the problem with it?" Voldemort finally managed to interrupt.

"The problem with it, as you so well put is that she wasn't stupid either and could easily see the magnitude of what she had created. She realized to importance of making sure it was not used in the wrong way, meaning against one's will, which is exactly as we are doing now!"

"But it's easy to trick you just have to convince the 'person' to take the potion of his own free will and that's it….right?" said Lucius raising an eyebrow.

"Wrong! Like it could be that simple… it has to be taken of one's own free will, simply because after taking it, one has 48 to remember the memories one seeks to forget, meaning, unless we can get the 'person' to actually think of those particular memories and mark them in its head, then the potion won't do a thing."

"Smart girl…" said Lucius with a grin.

"Smart girl, right, how do we trick it?" said Voldemort

"Easy, well easy for you my lord, we will take advantage of the connection you share with Potter, you will get into his head and once there, select the memories you wish to erase, and mark them, I warn you though, you can't erase separate events, you must pick a place and erase everything from before that point or from that point on, no skipping about in his head, memory has an order, if you disrupt it, it may crumble and drive him insane."

"Yes, yes we are all aware of the risks…" said Voldemort

"Well, not all…" said Lucius indicating the youth in the bed with his head.

The other two men just glared at him.

"What just pointing the obvious!"

"Yes, we noticed that and thank you for that wonderful reminder Lucius, can we continue now, how do I mark the memories?"

And Severus proceeded to explain him exactly how.

-----------------------------XD--------------------------------------------

Inside Harry Potter head was dark. Like really dark, and Severus had told him that he needed to find a door, and how the hell was he supposed to do that if he couldn't see a palm in front of his face? If only he could get some light…

And a torch appeared in the air at his right side

Then another one on the left side

And again another one on the right

And on the left

And right again, another torch

And so on…

An entire tunnel of torches was now in front of him, and stretched for as far as he could see…

He took the first step down the passageway…

This was going to be tough….

-----------------------------XD-------------------------------

A/N: Yes, once again EVIL! Very much so… tell me how much please! And I will reward you all with a really fast update!

For those interested in the name of the potions and its creation:

**Memoriam Solutio: Memoriam **is memory in Latin. **Solutio** is the Latin equivalent of 'solution' in the sense of the act of dissolving something.

**Lysbon's ****Memento vivere****: Lysbon** is a loose adaptation of Lisbon, my hometown in Portugal.  
**Memento vivere** - _A reminder of life (literally remember that you have to live)_


	8. Chapter 7 The Value Of A Memory

**Disclaimer:** As always I own nothing, but a couple of extremely annoying plot kitties, and an awesome beta! Who, I think of as my personal little magic fairy of literary and orthographic magic.

My thinkerbell of sorts isn't feeling so well this week… so boys and girls, readers around the world, if you believe in the wonderful, magical world of fanfiction, and awe-inspiring betas, clap your hands and send some strength and smiles to my beta: raven!

**A/N:** you do realize that, 75 reviews is ridiculous right? If you take into account the number of people who have this story on chapter alert, there's only like 5% of people who read this fanfic, reviewing. And that's just sad… yes it makes me very sad, and when I'm sad, I like to make other people sad too! Meaning taking my time with my updates if you get my drift…XD

Lol, I'm kidding! I'll always update as fast as I possibly can! Review if you would like some spoilers for the next chapters and/or just to tell how much you love/hate any character/scene!

The award to best reviewer of this week is going to be shared by two of my splendid reviewers:

1. the dark euphie

-because she proves my theory that if you're going to click the old alert button you can also leave a tiny, tiny review saying you like the story, you know? Just so I know you read it and didn't think it was complete crap…

2. Emriel

-because you got exactly what I meant for the relationships between the characters to be, and there's no greater reward for an author than knowing your readers are getting the meaning of your story, the little subliminal messages you send. Thank you Emriel, for understanding and letting me know your opinion, it means the world to me.

**Let's begin…**

**Chapter 7** The Value Of A Memory

_An entire tunnel of torches was now in front of him, and stretched for as far as he could see…_

_He took the first step down the passageway…_

_This was going to be tough…_

At first Lord Voldemort just waked ahead, one step at the time, being under the obvious illusion that the fastest way across Potter's mind would be in a straight line…

Which was quite a silly illusion to have, perhaps this could be a logic belief in the real world, outside, but inside the boy's head not so much. After all directions such as north or south, right or left, and straight ahead, are rather silly when you're not actually walking, but merely projecting the idea of walking inside one's mind. For each step you take forth, the mind around you will also move the length of a step forth, just to accompany you...

Not very logical no, but quite possible and obvious… simply because the ways of the mind as the ways of the heart have no logic.

Eventually, Voldemort became aware of this discrepancy. He was walking around in circles.

Crap, what now? He thought, there must be a way in, that assuming that there is something inside his head, besides endless dark corridors.

He then stopped and just looked around up and down then endless walls, trying to discern a difference, some inconsistency… that was when he heard them…

The whispers… the soft murmur all around him, so soft in fact that it became a sort of auditory breeze, and as a breeze passed unseen or unheard, until you searched for it. He was stunned, how had he failed to notice them before?

He tried to assert the origins of the sounds, but found it impossible since it came from all around him, all over the walls… the walls… he moved closer to the wall to his right, and was once again stunned.

It wasn't a typical wall, it was indeed dark and gloomy and it had the same texture all over, but this texture was not of stone or wood or any such common material. No, all around him there were walls of books, not on shelves or anything of the sort, they were simply there, like some enchanted wall paper, and the books were obvious the sources of the low sounds.

As he got even closer to the wall, he touched one of the books with the tip of his finger…

_I wonder how many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?... _

"What?" said Voldemort. And then he touched another book…

_You know… I think __obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died… maybe something horrifying or wickedly fun or..._

He immediately took his hand off the book and the voice become nothing more than a whisper again. Weird… he was pretty sure it was Potter's voice, wait!

He lift his had and touched a book to his left…

_There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far…_

Were this is… he touched another book, over his head this time, and the voice began again:

_I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired. Is it just me or isn't that kind of sad? and depressive? And slightly suicidal? And…_

Crap… they were. Somehow, in some weird way… These were Harry Potter's thoughts!

It is common belief that a wizard can know another wizard's thoughts, with truth serums and Legimancy and such. But that was not so, the only thing you could get was memories of events, dreams and sometimes one fleeting thought in a very disorganized mind. Thought are the very foundations of the mind, and normally kept at the very core of a person's psyche, and extremely difficult to know simply because you wouldn't even know how to begin looking for them… what could you do to search a wizard's mind for a thought, think of a word and search any thoughts that may contain it? (a/n: just as an apart… define google…) Ridiculous, it would never end, and it would make little to no sense.

But somehow, Harry seemed to have bypassed that problem, by simply storing his thought in these… books of sorts… he looked around… and speculated that once outside potter's mind this little information would be of no utility to him, since all books appeared exactly the same, it would prove impossible to actually find one in particular… like a thought.

He wondered for a moment if it would be like this with the all of Potter's mind, so far everything seemed incredibly organized if kind of depressive. In an odd way, it reminded him of his own mind.

The mind was a rather fascinating study, he had always thought so, and he had discovered that just as everyone was different everyone's mind was also organized in a rather different manner. Everyone's brain was unique and that made it all so much more complicated, that was the major reason, very few spell's interfered with one's mind, simply because very few wizards dare to enter such a field, while something could work for you and your mind, the possibility of it working in someone else's was abysmally small to say the least.

But, there's nothing wrong with trying, right? He himself had a rather strange mind, whenever he needed to find something, he would just…

"Look here… I don't have all day, I need to find some sort of door to your memories."

Without delay the entire tunnel shifted and as he looked around again, he was in exactly the same place but now, for was far as he could see, along the walls, there were doors.

All kind of doors, in different shapes and sizes, big doors, small doors, black doors, white doors, doors in wood and others in stone, some were just of air! Compacted to stay in a door shape!

Voldemort smirked. That was better, he was a step closer to finding the memory he was looking for, but still, very far. There were way too many doors for him to search one by one. In his mind he would just ask and his mind would select the information he was looking for, and so far it had worked her, but what now? He was looking for a specific memory, but he didn't know exactly what memory!

He couldn't simply say: show me only the door to this memory, because he didn't know what memory it was.

He was looking for THE memory, the one thing that had for certain made Harry choose sides. That one particular moment, in which he declared Voldemort as his nemesis, and accepted the fact that he would one day kill him, or be killed by him. That was the memory.

Once found and erased, it would end his problem, he knew that Harry had been raised to hate him and what he represented from the tender age of eleven, he remembered it, in that chamber in Hogwarts when he had tried through Quirrel to obtain the Philosopher's stone, Harry had already been persuaded to believe him as the bringer of all evils, but it wasn't for certain, he had been far too young to really make up his mind about it, Voldemort was sure of that.

At that time he had chose the wrong approach with the obvious results, but if he could change that?... no, it would never work, Harry was far too young then, and young was good, meant easily influenced, but too young was not, it meant annoying and with pre conceived notions of good and evil, write and wrong. Children think life is like in the fairytales: there the good guys and the bad guys.

No, he need the right memory, and that would only come after the boy had stopped being a child and left his childlike views of the world behind. When he began wondering about the good and evil in people, wondering about the light side and the dark side, trying to find reasons, and if possible when he thought about…

"Show me in which time, if any, you thought about switching sides."

And as he turned to his right, the wall moved really fast, it literally flew by and he found himself in front of a door of stone, not too big, not too small. It opened before he could touch it, and he entered.

He found himself in a room full of clocks, the invariable tick-tack; although low enough, was like a steady torture, like that Chinese torture of water drops.

"Very funny" he said "I get it there are a lot of 'times'… still this is not what I meant… I want the moment, the memory you have of it," The room pushed him out and the door closed with a band and he was again in the corridor. There were a lot of door again, but the space between the doors was now bigger.

Voldemort got the message… "Ok, just start with the first."

He opened the door nearest to him, a simple door of dark wood that looked a lot like a Hogwarts door. He looked inside but didn't enter.

There was no need. He already knew that one; it was the chamber that contained the Philosopher's stone. That he had ruled out already. He closed the door and moved down the corridor.

He opened the next one, this time it was a stones door with serpents engraved in it. There were some marks of humidity around the round corners of the door. He made a face, he knew that door…

The chamber of Secrets, Salazar's chamber, but why the hell… He observed the figures ahead, was that him? And potter? He was explaining to the boy who he was, with that nifty spell to write the letters in his name and switch them.

Hum… this one wouldn't do either, the boy was only a year older, and that… wasn't him, sure he called himself Voldemort back then, but 17 year old him didn't come even close to him now, not to his power level and not to what he expected of his followers. It wouldn't do. Still it was nice to know the boy associated him with his younger counterpart...

He closed that door and was going to try the next when he thought, why the hell… he was going about this the wrong way… or at least the long way…

Fine… "Listen carefully, I want the door to the memory in which you, Harry James Potter, decided for certain, I was evil and needed to die, and that you were going to do it, if there is such a memory." He added the last part as an afterthought, he needn't have bothered…

The doors flew away, like the trees flow by when you're flying on your broomstick at high speed. And only one stood right there in front of him, mocking him, with the knowledge he could have simply asked for what he wanted from the beginning.

Evil door…

The door was made of grass and it was plain huge. Actually it looked very little like a door and very much like a bush.

As he looked for a way to open it, it simply slid aside, and he walked in.

Or out… He was on the outside... on a cemetery.

His cemetery, the one where he had regained his body and came back from the dead.

He stepped right in the middle of the scene, the boy had just managed to run off after the incident with their wands, as for him, the weird spirit things were distracting him.

Voldemort looked down at the body of the other boy, in the ground, lifeless blue eyes stared at him… Harry had just managed to escape the spells from his death eaters, and summoned the Tournament's cup, and had fell on his knees right in front of him, he grabbed the death body, and as the cup flew to his out stretched hand he looked back, at the death Eaters, the fight, to the him, the Voldemort of then… And the Voldemort of now looked into perfectly tormented green eyes and knew…

He knew Harry would never sleep peacefully another night.

He knew Harry would never forget that encounter. Or that boy's death and what iy represented. That was the death of all the innocents yet to come, of all the people who would die for him, in his place, because of him.

He knew this was that moment.

He knew Harry had just made an undying vow, to kill him and all that he stood for.

------------------------------------XD--------------------------

He looked around the memory, concentrated in the imaginary wall around him, pushed it back, until when he had first entered the room and Harry was running towards the body. He focused on the procedures Snape had described for him, what he had to do… He then spoke: "Stop!"

Everything froze.

"Memoriam non grata fin… ne plus ultra" (1)

And he was back in reality, once more.

--------------------------------XD---------------------------------------

A/N: (1) **memoriam non grata **means "an unwelcome memory"** fin **means end.

And part two: **ne plus ultra** "no more beyond"

And please remember this is internet Latin, I've no actual knowledge of Latin, if it wrong, well then it's wrong. Who cares? Harry lost all his memories from that time on, either way, he never really decided to kill Voldemort, although he still wants to, he never felt like he had to do it, like it was his mission or duty or something. That memory is gone and so his everything forward, or beyond that moment. Cool, hum? =)

More like finally! Now I can finally start to write, amnesic!Harry and manipulative!Voldemort.

Hurray! And if you want to read about those faster… well you just have to review!

+scalvim+


	9. Chapter 8 What you see and what you know

**Disclaimer:** As always I own nothing, but if I did… oh if I did! Garrrrr!

My heart goes to my beta, as always, the one and only: raven!

**A/N: **Ok, from here on it's the story, pure and simple. It will begin building slowly, but it will be worth it, at least that's my plane and I'm sticking to it! Also sorry for the delay, I had finished this yesterday, but in the overall there were still a couple of details I wasn't sure about including yet. I explain it better in the A/N in the end.

And that's where the fun starts!

So, as one of my reviewers said: **let the games begin…**

**Chapter 8: **What you see and what you know

_And he was back in reality, once more._

Back in reality, in the rooms he had provided for Harry. He looked around; everything looked the same, except for the fact that it was now covered in darkness and candle light, outside the stars in a moonless night shone bright in a dark sky.

Night must have fallen while he was inside the boy's mind.

Yes, everything looked the same, but it didn't feel the same. He was, confused, no, it was more like he was conflicted. He was in fact not confused at all, what he had seen in Potter's mind had definitely cemented his decisions, and made him even surer of the necessity of this plan.

But it hadn't done only that.

The boy was a dangerous enemy. Remarkably as it may seem, he hadn't realized that before. It could be amusing if it wasn't so damn stupid on his part, and just plain wasteful.

As it was it took things to an all different level. The level of powerful and determinate wizards.

The level in which only two groups of wizards could reside in Voldemort's world:

Wizard who were allies, and wizards who were dead.

From his first confrontation with Potter he had realized that the boy was hard to kill, but there is a vast difference between hard to kill, and powerful. That mind reminded him too much of his own, not just the organization system, but the thinking process, Potter thought, a lot.

Severus had told him all about those Oclummancy lessons. Well, of the tries at least, but had Severus seen even the tip of the iceberg? Probably not, he had been too busy humiliating the boy.

Had he himself seen more than the tip of the iceberg, somehow he doubted it.

There was too much power, after Severus had explained him the processes involved in the potion's work and the lines he had to speak, Voldemort had been expecting a confused mind, foggy, distressed, even in panic that was one of the risks Severus had warned him about, Potter's mind could reject him, in the state of fright it ought to have been in. Instead he had 'travelled' to a calm, if strange mind. Almost identical to his own, for some strange reason he couldn't fandom.

When he had first put this plan in motion his idea was to make Potter a follower, certainly a very special follower, due to his background and their past encounters, but just a follower. If even possible of course, it could have simply happened that the plan was a no-go, in which case the solution was simply and Potter's death would be a swift and efficient end to all of Voldemort's problems.

Now tough, his original plans could, perhaps, use a little more work. In fact they needed some work if they were to actually happen, at all. With the boy's newly discovered by Voldemort and probably still unknown to Potter, power levels, well we were now playing a different game, and maybe just maybe…

He observed Harry's sleeping face. The candle light cast some rough shadows over the slightly aristocratic features, making the boy's face seem, not so boyish. Yes, maybe he was good enough to play with the big boys. Even if he was not ready to do so yet. It could be arranged, it would be troublesome, but what good thing in life doesn't require a little hard work?

Yet this was dangerous, a dangerous game that could go remarkably wrong, very, very fast. As a slightly amnesiac and extremely confused follower, he would be easily controlled. But that was no longer feasible, the boy was not confused, at least not in his mind, and he would definitely not accept his 'slightly amnesiac' state lying down. He could indeed respond really badly to it and thanks to his power levels create some real damage. Even if the damage wasn't immediate, Potter was determinate enough to get himself some answers, and when he found them, because he would, you can only keep a powerful, determinate wizard in the 'dark' for so long. He laughed at his own joke. When he found them, there would be hell to pay; maybe it was for the best, to just kill him right now.

For one thing, at least, he had learned in the boy's mind:

A follower Mr. Potter was not.

---------------------------------------------------XD-------------------------------------------------

--------(Scared you, didn't I? thought I was going to end it here, hum? Relax…)---------------

---------------------------------------------------XD-------------------------------------------------

In the parlor, three men planned, over a table that contained only a medium sized pot. Or better described, a man commanded and explained his plans to the other, while the remaining man passed around angrily. And the pot in the table was in fact a Pensieve.

"So what you think?" said Voldemort.

"I can't believe you did it again! You managed to piss Severus off yet again!" said Lucius, while observing Severus anger filled passes, and muttering.

"The day I can't infuriate Severus is the day you can chain me naked to a bed, dress me up in black leather, whip me and perform deliberate sex acts on my person. But that's not the point; do you think it will work?" continued Voldemort, completely ignoring the angry, passing man.

"Of course not! It has never been attempted before… it's preposterous!" interrupted Severus.

"Yes" continued Voldemort "It has never been done before, and that's precisely why it will work."

"You have decided then?" said Lucius

Voldemort made a soft inclination of his head, the closer he would ever come to a nod.

Severus raised his arms in exasperation "This will end badly. Don't come and say I didn't warn you!"

Lucius laughed at his dramatic friend. "Fine, we will call it: Operation Will Most Likely End Badly, But It Could Work Because The World Likes To Annoy Severus, And This Would Be A Great Way Of Doing So".

And they proceeded to collect memories in the Pensieve. And select them. And rearrange them. And some, just some, completely transform them.

--------------------------------------------XD------------------------------------------------------------

Harry woke up with a jump and a very big headache.

His first thought was that this was a very bad hangover.

As he looked for his glasses on the little table by the bed, they were there, even so he looked at the distorted forms around the room, and his second thought was that he did not know exactly where he was or how he had gotten there.

His third thought was that he had no recollection of when he had gotten drunk. And this thought was followed by a series of other thoughts in that same line: he also couldn't remember what he had drunk, where he had drunk it, or with whom...

Strangely enough, a domestic elf popped in.

"Oh, the little master is awake! I'll call Master right away!"

"Wait! Where am…" But the elf had already popped out.

He looked around the room again, then he put his hand under the pillow and searched over the little bed table for his wand, it wasn't there. And he never slept without his wand, he couldn't find it! Where was it?! And his glasses?! And for that matter where the hell was he?

He couldn't freaking remember how he had gotten here!

"Damn! What the hell did I drink?"

"You will have to tell us that yourself Mr. Potter."

Harry jumped for the second time since he had woken up and looked to the left in the direction of the voice; he saw the distorted figures of three men. One of them stayed by the door while the other two advanced.

Harry frowned "I can't remember…"

"Oh do not worry yourself about that, Severus did say you could be expecting some memory lost, after all you have been asleep for the past 5 months." The man continued.

"5 MONTHS!" Harry yelled. "How the hell, and… Severus?" he glanced to the other man that so far had been silent, and noticed, although he couldn't distinguish the man's features, something recognizable in the black robes, and the man's way of standing. Could that be?...

"That would be me Mr. Potter." Said the no-longer-silent-or-anonymous- man.

"Professor Snape? What are you doing here?"

"Professor? I'm afraid I haven't been your professor for a while now, Mr. Potter…"

Mean while the other man had sat down on the edge of the bed. Harry could now observe him slightly better but he still couldn't see much, the man then proceeded to extend him, his glasses.

Harry put them on and found himself with a clear view of the man with thirty to forty years of age, dressed in robes of black and gray cloth, embroidered with silver. He looked at the man's hand in front of him and noticed of the paleness of it. That paleness stretched itself to the man's strong neck and to his face. Although marked by that almost livid paleness, this man had a remarkably handsome face; a strong jaw and aristocratic lines, while his teeth, as white was pearls, were set off to admiration by a delectable mouth. Harry looked up from the nose, quite straight, directly to his eyes.

They were penetrating and sparkling… they were also red.

Harry screamed.

-------------------------XD-------------------------------------

**A/N: **And here is where everyone hates me. But it's late and I'm tired and the next chapter will be up by Sunday! I swear. It's practically already written, I was in doubt about publishing it all together and decided not to, I felt like this was a good place to stop, (ok, so it was only good for me!) it's 4 am and I have a birthday party in the morning. Sorry!

Either way, tell me of what you think will happen… you'll probably not get it right, but why don't you give it a shot… it's in that button… you want it… I bet in five second you won't even remember why the hell you didn't review before! XD

+scalvim+


	10. Chapter 9 What You Know And What You See

**Disclaimer: **Still not mine…but god…If it was!

**A/N: **My profound thanks to my awesome new beta: SetsunaX! If I owned Harry I would give him to you wrapped in a big red bow, as a thank-you gift!

lt's show time!

**Chapter 9** – **What you Know and What you See; part 2**

_Harry looked up from the nose, quite straight, directly to his eyes._

_They were penetrating and sparkling… they were also red._

_Harry screamed._

"!" then he pushed himself back in the bed, trying to get as far away as possible from Voldemort and ended up hitting the back of his head on the headboard.

"Ouch!"

"Oh, do calm down Mr. Potter, and spare us to your little theatrics."

"Professor! Sir, what is going on here? How did I get here? For that matter, where the hell is here?"

"As I have already said, I'm no longer you Professor, Mr. Potter. As for what is happening here, it is quite obvious, even to your rather underdeveloped mind: you're trying to interrogate me, using your ludicrous vocabulary, and making an utter idiotic figure of yourself."

Harry looked like he was about to interrupt but was quickly ignored by Snape as he continued.

"Do try not to interrupt me Mr. Potter, as that would undoubtedly only serve to embarrass yourself further. As for how did you get here, the answer can't be simpler. We brought you here."

Harry snapped. "That doesn't explain squat!"

"Once again, your eloquence amazes me, and I would gladly continue to be astounded by it, if it weren't for the possible brain damage that it would inevitably cause me. So do shut up, Mr. Potter."

"I would if you told me where I am!!!"

To this Snape smirked evilly. "But of course! You are currently in our Lord Voldemort's Head Quarters."

"WHAT?!"

"Now that was way too sudden, Severus! I thought we had agreed not to take advantage of the boy's state to terrify him or overcharge him with too much information," said the red eyed man.

"Anything would be too much information for his peanut-sized brain."

The man with the red eyes glared.

"Yes, my Lord."

"His Lord? What Lord? What… wait a second! Don't I know you?" Harry observed the man in front of him closer and an image came to his mind, of a man with the exact same eyes and slightly similar features stepping out of a bubbling caldron.

"!"

"Would you stop with the screaming, for heaven's sake!" yelled Snape.

"I think my eardrums just died," said Voldemort, covering his ears with his hands.

Meanwhile Harry looked in a state of sheer panic. He had stopped screaming but only to start stuttering "But… but, but, but…"

"Let me guess: but?" snidely said Snape.

"How? You're working for him?! I knew it!"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "And? So are you, Mr. Potter."

"What? Me? What do you mean?"

The two men traded a look. Then they stared at Harry and looked concerned. They stared and stared some more until Harry got tired and said: "What?! Do I have something on my face? Spinach in my teeth? What?"

"Mr. Potter, what is the last thing you recall?"

"Hum…" Harry tried to remember something about how he had gotten there, or about, well, anything really.

And then it hit him!

"The cemetery! I was at a cemetery, at the third round of the TriWizard Tournament! And then Cedric died, and then there was Wormtail, and he did some 'vudu' or 'hudu' thingy… and you came out of a caldron!" And he pointed an accusing finger at Voldemort.

"And there were all these Death Eaters and you tortured me and we fought and our wands did some more 'vudu' things and my parents were there, but not really, and some more people and they spoke to me and I ran off."

He held his head between his hands, he was so confused, and he still had a headache! He could see the memory of the events he was describing in his head, but it all seemed like it was happening to somebody else, and not him! He could see he was scared, or should be, but he couldn't feel it!

So he continued.

"The Death Eaters were throwing curses at me, and I ran and I was almost getting to Cedric, but then it all goes black. And I can't remember a thing after that!" He just looked with wide, green eyes at Voldemort's and Snape's stunned, and not pleasantly so, faces. "So what happened? I'm guessing I got hit with some weird curse that according to you knocked me out for what? 5 months? And you captured me, instead of just killing me, for some sick, twisted reason, that probably only you can make sense off, and Snape worked for you all along as I always thought and here I am. Right?"

"Oh…ohh- ohh… that's not good," said Voldemort.

"Right?" Harry's voice sounded kind of desperate now, like he was clinging to a last thread of hope. His suggestion of what happened was pretty bad, but by the look on their faces it was worse.

"Wrong, Mr. Potter"

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"Wait! Let me see if I got this right… You're telling me that in fact although I was a sleep for the last 5 months…," Harry began, after Professor Snape and Voldemort (with some minor help from none other than Lucius Malfoy!) had spent the last half an hour trying to explain to him exactly what had happened to him.

"Not exactly asleep. More like in a comatose state, but yes," said Malfoy.

Harry ignored the interruption and continued. "Like I was saying, I was kind of 'asleep'," and he made the little signs with his hands to stress the word, "for the past 5 months, those were only the five past months, and what happened in the tournament was actually about 2 years ago?! Worse than that! Apparently around that time I had a sudden, what did you call it? A 'change of heart' and I started working for you to help bring down Dumbledore and the Order. I'm, in reality, a spy for the dark side, like Snape. And wait! It gets worse. I was doing my 'job', working for my newly found life motivation, when Ron Weasley, my best friend in the entire world shot me in the back at Dumbledore's orders, with some freaky spell that left me in a coma for 5 months! And in that time, Dumbledore has died, the Order has fallen and so has the Ministry, you," and at that he pointed at Voldemort "rule the Wizarding World?! Oh! And I almost forgot, you and your Death Eaters are also supported by most of the wizarding population… did I miss anything or is that about it?"

"Yep. That's pretty much it!" happily exclaimed Malfoy

"Oh!" said Harry, making a look of sudden comprehension. "And if you look closely to your left, you can see my sanity zooming away. Wave goodbye!" and he waved.

"You're not insane Harry, you're just confused. Everything will be alright, just… give yourself some time to recover," said Voldemort.

"Look, you don't really expect me to buy into this 'we are all so concerned about you Harry' shit, right?"

"I'm not concerned," said Snape with a sarcastic, like 'this-is-so-obvious' tone of voice.

"Yes you are, we all are, and I do," said Voldemort. "The Harry I know would have thought about this rationally."

"No he wouldn't," said Snape in the same sarcastic tone.

"Fine, so maybe he wouldn't, but I expect you to do it! What other reason is there for you to still be alive?"

"I don't know! Some weird, whatever, reason! I'm not about to believe I decided to join the guy who has been trying to kill me practically since I was born! And I don't know about you, but I don't stand for that! If somebody tries to kill me, I try and kill 'em right back!" yelled Harry.

"Yes, well you rethought that theory. You considered that there were many problems with the wizarding world. And that maybe Dumbledore's approach was the wrong one to use in order to change the wizarding world's injustices; you thought I was the best option." He gave a tiny grin.

"What?! That's insane! Look, this has reached a level of insanity so freaking high that, whatever, screw it, I give in! Maybe there's, like, this totally remote possibility that I do agree that there are many things wrong with the wizarding world, and that we are in desperate need of some change, and maybe I could even turn on Dumbledore, he's definitely not my favorite person, but there's no way in hell you could ever convince me I decided, out of my own free will, to join you! You're like the boogey man! You're VOLDEMORT!"

"Yes, I am Lord Voldemort. But what I also am, is a person just like you. I'm not forty feet tall, I don't breathe fire, and I don't eat small children for breakfast. I snore, I curse a lot more than I should, I control a legion of devoted followers, 50% of which are insane, and enjoy torturing and killing muggles, and I can't brew potions worth a damn. I'm just like everybody else."

"Just like… you, oh! Grrrr," he couldn't even begin to express his anger! That guy was freaking mocking him! He had to be! The Dark Lord was deriving some sort of twisted pleasure from messing with his head! And he would never even listen to what Voldemort was saying if it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't remember anything! "But, but you want to kill the muggles, and muggle-borns and blood traitors, and whoever is against you, hell, you want to kill half the wizarding population!"

Lucius snickered, "He is kind of right, you're not very civic-minded."

Voldemort was just sitting there in the farthest end of the bed, looking thoughtful, and he stayed like that for a while. Finally he spoke:

"You are not going to believe me, and I understand. It's incredibly childish and I had forgotten you were so young, but I understand." Harry looked relieved, but then Voldemort looked straight at him with those unbelievably insightful red eyes.

"Although, of course, I cannot simply accept it. I'm sure you understand."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, well I can't simply accept the fact that now that you don't have your memories, you can simply back out and go support the light side again. You're a powerful wizard, Harry, and I can't finish my conquering of the wizarding world without your help and support. Well I can, but why should I? You are on my side and you're extremely useful there, and so you will continue to remain so, memories or no memories. Besides, I've thought of a solution to your problem."

"Ah… and what is it?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"If you can't remember for yourself, I'll simply show you," answered Voldemort as he proceeded to walk out of the room.

Snape and Malfoy positioned themselves on each side of the door and Harry glared.

His headache wasn't getting any better.

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**A/N: **Can anyone guess how Voldemort is going to 'show' Harry the wrong in his ways?

Also in next chapter we finally get to see what happens to the rest of the order members! And how the WW is coping with Voldemort in charge!

Spoilers for whoever can spot a "Firefly" quote by Harry!


	11. Chapter 10 The Choices You Made

**Chapter 10 **

**THE CHOICES YOU MADE**

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay!Real life and all that jazz! I could go on and on with excuses for the delay, but instead I'll simply apologize profusely, thank you all for hanging in there and express my ever growing gratitude for all your wonderful reviews and much appreciated support.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. I do own amnesic Harry… Oh wait! Voldie owns that one. Crap…

Let's begin…

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"_If you can't remember for yourself, I'll simply show you," answered Voldemort as he proceeded to walk out of the room._

_Snape and Malfoy positioned themselves on each side of the door and Harry glared._

_His headache wasn't getting any better._

Harry stared at the ceiling of the bed.

And he stared some more.

Eventually he realized that the answers to all of life's questions may be written somewhere, but that place was not the ceiling of this particular bed. So he got up and went to the window.

As he looked to the landscape outside he tried to recognize something, but everything was completely unfamiliar to him, like this was the first time he was seeing this view.

And it was! What was he thinking?! He couldn't possibly be considering Voldemort's words! This was not his room. In fact, he had never been here before, and he was sure of it -or was he? Damn! He wasn't sure of anything right now. Well, that was not exactly true. He was sure of something - he was sure he had to go and find some answers.

If not to all of life's questions, then at least to his lack-of-memory-questions!

---------------------- XD-----------------------------

Meanwhile, Voldemort was sitting in a chair in his library with the Pensieve on the table in front of him. Sitting in the chairs by the fireplace, there were Lucius and Snape. He had called both of them about one hour ago. He was expecting Mr. Potter to come barging in at anytime, demanding answers. He could just imagine it: The door would swing open with a loud bang and the boy would come rushing in and probably yelling 'I want some answers and you're going to give them to me!

BANG!

Voldemort looked up to see his beautiful library doors hanging open and standing right there was Harry Potter.

"I want some answers and you're going to give them to me!"

Voldemort couldn't help it, he burst out laughing.

The boy just stared at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

He decided to take pity on the boy. and said:

"We have been making arrangements for precisely that." He indicated a chair in front of his table for Harry to sit on. Once when he was seated Voldemort continued, "I have asked Severus and Lucius to put some of their own memories about the last year, which you seem to be lacking, and I also put some of my own in this. Do you know what this is?"

"A Pensieve…" Harry said his huge green eyes bright with a spark of recognition.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, "Oh… you're familiar with it?"

"Yes, I… read about it somewhere," Harry stuttered with a blush.

'Seriously, how had this boy managed to survive this long while being such a bad liar?' thought Voldemort, 'I will have to learn more about this.' " Well, then you know what it does. It stores memories and allows one to view them, and that what we will be doing."

"We?"

"Of course, you certainly don't thing I'm going to let you go there alone? How would you know what you were viewing that way?"

"Oh…" said Harry. "Okay, I guess." 'It's not like I have to believe in anything you show me anyway,' he thought.

"Then if you approve… let's go!" With that last sarcastic remark, he grabbed Harry's shoulder, and as they leaned over the Pensieve, everything swirled around.

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"Ouch!" When Harry came to himself he was sitting on his ass, while Voldemort was coolly standing by his side.

"Let's start with the beginning, yes? Then go on until we reach the end and then we'll stop." said Voldemort. "I believe you told me the last thing you remembered was our little dispute in the cemetery?"

"Our little dispute?!" sputtered Harry, getting to his feet.

"Why, what else would you call it? Certainly not a real duel…"

"But… a fight?" he tried.

Voldemort made an expression of distaste. "I don't fight. Animals fight, school boys have fights. Grown men have duels or disputes."

"Fine, where are we?"

"Make an educated guess."

Harry looked around and recognized the place immediately.

"The cemetery."

Voldemort gave a light nod.

Harry understood why he hadn't recognized it right away. It was empty. Sure there were graves and everything about the surroundings looked the same, but there was no one there, no Voldemort, no Pettigrew, no Death Eaters.

And all of a sudden Pettigrew was there and Nagini, also an enormous black caldron, and from there on, the ritual to bring Voldemort back to life began.

Voldemort had been expecting some sort of reaction, some 'can't they see us?' or other equally ignorant question typical of Harry, but as he watched the boy only seemed interested in the events; there was no surprise or concern coming from him. Indeed Harry seemed quite familiar with these proceedings, certainly not something he could learn from a book… hum, he would have to look into that.

Everything from there on went precisely as Harry remembered it. He saw himself arrive from the sky with Cedric by the Tri-Wizard cup portkey.

He saw himself, scared and confused but decided he couldn't help but to feel a small amount of pride, he had his wand ready, even through his panicked state. He had still been ready to fight for his life, and defend himself and Cedric. Even if he had failed to save him, he had at least tried.

And now, looking at the memory, the last one he still remembered, he felt his heart clench, when Wormtail cast the killing curse and Cedric fell. He couldn't help but shudder. Harry knew there was nothing he could do, this was only a memory and Cedric was long dead, but still he couldn't stop the feeling of helplessness that threatened to over well him and it only seemed to grow as he watched from his place beside Voldemort.

They were quite far away from the actual scene. He could see everything clearly but could barely hear any more than some detached words, screams, curses and other loud noises, as the rest of the memory unfolded.

Wormtail binding him, the ritual, the shimmering caldron, Voldemort's rebirth, the Death Eaters, Voldemort taunting him, the duel, the wands merging… everything just seemed to mend together in his head as he saw the memory and at the same time remembered it.

Until he reached the point from which he remembered no more.

The 'he' from the memory had just escaped from the weird wand-bonding-thing, and after he dodged several of the curses cast by the Death Eaters, 'he' was running to Cedric, when he was hit with a spell on the back and fell forward.

"Am I correct to assume you remember nothing after this?" asked Voldemort

Harry just nodded.

"Then we should approach closer, assuming you do not wish to just see what happened, but also to hear it."

Once again Harry nodded and they moved closer. As the memory continued on several Death Eaters were now moving a knocked out Harry to the head stone where Voldemort waited.

The memory-Voldemort proceeded to send his Death Eaters away, all of them, including Wormtail.

Then he just stood there and looked at memory-Harry's body on the ground at his feet. Finally, after what seemed to Harry like an eternity, memory-Voldemort cast a spell that tied memory-Harry to the head stone then ennervated him.

Memory-Harry looked around and couldn't stop the expression of surprise that crossed his face when he saw he was alone with the Dark Lord, who then proceeded to bend down and stare directly into his face.

Harry was clearly fighting to ignore his fear, and failing miserably. Even the fact that they were alone was making matters worse. But he wasn't dead yet, so maybe he could buy time. Real-Harry was now close enough to inspect his memory counterpart's expression and recognized easily: 'Someone would come and save him right?' That was what was going through his mind, real-Harry could also clearly see the exact moment in which his memory-self stopped believing that.

The memory-Voldemort had yet to move.

"Where's are your Death Eaters?" memory-Harry said curiously. "Ran away scared?"

When Voldemort didn't answer he continued.

"I thought you wanted them to see you kill me, something to do with your continued inability to do it."

To this memory-Voldemort let out a smirk. "All in good time, Mr. Potter. Your death will come eventually, but apparently not tonight."

Harry's eyes widened in an almost comical way.

"It's not that I don't want you dead as fast as possibly..." said Voldemort. "It's that the Universe doesn't. I'm not stupid."

Memory-Harry snorted.

Voldemort ignored him and continued: "All those other times in which you have somehow managed to destroy my plans and survive could have been luck. In fact, in the beginning of this evening I dearly believed they were. But this is far too much. The question, Mr. Potter, is no longer if it's luck or not, but what should I do with you, if I can't indeed kill you?"

"Let me see if I got this right: you aren't going to kill me?"

"Are you in such a hurry to die?"

"Not particularly."

"Good." Memory-Voldemort stood up and stepped back. "I too am in no rush to meet my maker, something that appears to almost happen every time I try to kill you." He bent closer to Harry again. "So what to do? It appears that we are stuck together. The Fates themselves keep conspiring to throw us at each other, but what do you think?"

Real-Harry observed while his memory-self nodded. He couldn't help the smirk that surged from hearing memory-Voldemort going on and on with his evil Overlord speech. After all, this was just a memory and real-Harry couldn't stop himself from seeing the humor in the situation. No matter what was going to happen, he was going to live since he was here to see this memory. Even so, nothing could have prepared him to the next phrase that came out of memory-Voldemort's mouth.

"So, Mr. Potter - Harry - I'd like to offer you another opportunity."

Memory-Harry blinked. "Another opportunity for what?"

Memory-Voldemort was observing memory-Harry with quite a predatory look. He examined the boy oddly; his red eyes stared directly into Harry's green ones. The scrutiny made Harry shudder. "You are very powerful," memory-Voldemort murmured. "You've grown well."

"So?" It was hard to keep the suspicion out of his tone.

"If you joined me now, we would be undefeatable together."

Real-Harry and memory-Harry shared the same reaction: they gaped. "Join you?"

"Yes," memory-Voldemort continued, he seemed enthralled by the idea. Harry didn't get it.

"But you tried to kill me--"

"--And failed. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result is a sign of insanity, you know?"

Harry just stared at him, the man was insane.

"Think of it, Harry. We could end this pointless war right now. Thousands of lives would be saved. Peace would reign, isn't that what you want?"

"At what cost?" he asked.

"Well, that's the question, isn't it Harry?" Voldemort said. "What would you do for peace? What would you sacrifice?

Your dear Dumbledore," he spat out the name, "probably told you that I want peace for only the select few, but I want it for everyone. Dumbledore only cares for those who benefit from the ability to have uniquely light magic and who are born into the right families. They enjoy their happy little lives at the expense of the suffering of the rest of the Wizarding world. They use our wrongs as excuses to persecute us."

"And that would all change with you in power?"

"You have to admit that I'd be better than Fudge."

Real-Harry snorted. He couldn't help it. But at the same time what the memory-Voldemort had said rang a bell of truth in his head.

"I… I can't… you're trying to manipulate me… twisting the truth…"

"I am not and you know it. It's a simple decision, Harry, and one you don't have to make now. I doubt it would have any value if you made it now. There is a time in every life when paths are chosen and character is forged (1). Now is not that time, but when it is I'll find you. I always do." He made a gesture with his wand and memory-Harry was untied.

Harry watched bewildered as memory-Voldemort summoned the Tri-Wizard Cup and placed it in his even more bewildered memory-self, hands.

The memory twirled around them.

"You let me go?!"

"People never learn anything by being told, they have to find out for themselves."

"hum?" Harry didn't get it. At all.

Voldemort let out a sight, "I could have done only two things: kept you there until you were convinced, or killed you. I thought it would be stupid to continue to talk and try to get you to believe in something, which you obviously did not want to believe in. It seemed to me like an exercise in futility. I did have better things to do with me time, that with finally having a body, after spending 14 years as a bodiless spirit."

"…you let me go… so that I might believe for myself?! That's stupid! I would never, ever come to see things from your point of view. I won't ever believe you!

Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

Harry gasped, "Now wait a second!" then he sighted with a defeated look, "I did it, didn't I?"

Voldemort nodded his head and made a gesture with his hand. Several more memories skipped by, one of them stopped and they were suck into it.

They were inside some weird room with a huge arc right in the middle and there was a battle going on.

"We are inside the Ministry of Magic. In the Department of Mysteries to be more precise. This is not actually my memory, since I wasn't present at this precise moment, but Lucius Malfoy's memory of the events."

He observed the battle around him, trying to discover why the hell he was being showed this. Then he saw his Godfather, Sirius, slip through the veil after being hit by a curse. Harry ran forward without thinking that this was only a memory, and he gasped as his memory-self ran right through him trying to get to Sirius, but was caught by Remus who told him he was dead. Sirius was dead. He fell to his knees. How could he have forgotten about this? The pain was too unbearable, it was like someone was ripping a piece of his heart, his soul… then he heard Voldemort speak in his hear.

"I believe it was after this event that you had your 'change of heart'. You realized the realities of a war and tried to prevent any more people you loved from dying. You believed allying yourself with me was the way to end this war."

"Then are we done? No more memories?" Harry asked. He was about to cry, the grief was too overwhelming for him to handle and he did not wanted Voldemort to see that.

"Still one more memory left. This one is my own."

Everything twirled and this time they were in a room he recognized. They were in his room at the Dursleys. Memory-Voldemort was leaning against the door, while his own memory-self was sitting on the tattered bed.

"And Dumbledore?" asked the memory-Voldemort, "Do you expect me to believe you, Dumbledore's poster boy, have suddenly decided to turn your back on the old man?"

"He who fights against monsters should see to it that he does not become a monster in the process. And when you stare persistently into an abyss, the abyss also stares into you. (2)" memory-Harry paused. There was a calm expression on his face, like the expression on someone who had just found the answer to a question he had been searching for a long time. "I stared into the abyss and while staring I realized the abyss and I are more alike than I thought. We have so much in common and I found myself agreeing with many of the views and opinions of the 'abyss', if you get what I mean. I also found that Dumbledore lacks the ability to not lose himself in the 'process', in this war. I believe he has become the monsters he fights, and he appears to be incapable of admitting it."

"But you admit it? You've 'looked into the abyss' is it?" the memory-Voldemort smirked. "And tell me, won't this 'change of heart' make you one of the 'monsters' you seek to fight?"

"Maybe, but I think I understand it better now. There are no monsters. My godfather said to me: 'the world is not divided between Good people and Death Eaters.' And although I had already come to realized that, I think I needed the wake-up call," answered memory-Harry.

"So we are your wake-up call?"

"You were always my wake-up call and never in a good way. Somehow I doubt this is the time that it will be a 'good thing', at least, not for a lot of people."

Voldemort interrupted, "That is only if I believe in you, and in your unexpected and quite philosophic new view of things. Besides, if both Dumbledore and I are 'monsters', why would you pick me? Especially considering our past history…"

"I wouldn't. I did not pick you, I picked your side, the Dark Side and its views, the changes the Dark Side seeks to make in the wizarding world are changes I see as necessary and long-needed. Maybe I do not agree with many of the methods, but I began to believe they justify the end. And the past is the past; I do not wish to speak of it, especially with you. I live in the present, and in the present there is a war going on, a war I wish to end by whatever means necessary."

Harry watched himself, or his memory-self, stare right into memory-Voldemort's red gaze. "I am tired of working on a need-to-know basis; I want the truth, the all of it. You seem to be the only one who will tell me the truth, in fact you've always told me the truth, at least since you came back from the bodiless-spirit-world, and in a rather crude way."

Suddenly real-Harry felt a pull and a twirl, and he was out of the Pensieve. He was sitting on ground in Voldemort's library. With bottomless green eyes he looked at Voldemort who was standing and looking down at him. As he tried to formulate the question in his mind, Voldemort answered it.

"And that… is all you need to know."

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(1)A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Bray; Mary Dowd

(2)Beyond Good and Evil, "Fourth Part: Maxims and Interludes," section 146 (1886).  
Friedrich Nietzsche

**Ending A/N:** If you can add to this story to your Alerts then you can also review and tell me what you think! in addition, ideasare great**, I like them, **please tell me what you want to see in this fic, not the plot of it, I have a very well thought of plot for this story, I know the things that are going to happen and I've a good idea of when, but I would totally love to read in your reviews about stuff you would like to see in it! Even if it's stupid, pointless stuff! Like imagine you've always wanted to read a fic in which Lucius Malfoy falls back when he's sitting on his chair; or Snape trips on his cape as he's walking down the stairs. Just stuff, I can pick up, and work with, to create entries for my scenes, and at the same time make some of your 'what if' moments a reality! Tell me what you think!


	12. Chapter 11 & 12 From The Past 'Till

**A/N:** For one reason and the other, this took longer than I'd planned to write, even though most of it has been written since ages ago. Anyway, I've completely lost in the up-dates-challenge I set for myself, yes I concede defeat! Real life or better yet University life, attacked me, mugged me of my poor plot bunnies and kicked me to the curb.

Sorry about that… but to make it up to you all this is a double chapter, huge and filled with awesome quotes and other good stuff (including some much needed in-depth into Lucius and Severus odd relationship). Also this chapter is the return to chapter sense! From now on chapter 13 will be chapter 13. Perfect hum?

By the way… this is the un-betaed version. Yep, I betaed it myself, which means mistake after mistake,(not really! lol=) but yey, it was about time I published right? RIGHT!

If someone would like to beta for me, I have a beta but I can't speak with her right now, probably computer problems, hard to tell, either way… feel free to send me a message if you're interested!

+ Chapter 11 and 12+

**From the Past 'Till the Future**

'_All he needed to know…'_

Harry found himself wondering about that for quite some time, after his trip through memory lane.

During the last few days, Voldemort and his minions had left him alone (well, relatively alone, he was still watched 24/7 by the many portraits of snakes all around the mansion), he was left alone to think and decide, he supposed.

Unfortunately, the only thing he had managed to do was try and force his head to remember that which he'd apparently forgotten, the last 2 years of his life, but try as he might, he had none of those memories, he remembered none of those things, a part of his life had been taken away from him, and an important part at that.

Together with those memories Voldemort had also shown him many newspapers; he had them right now spread across his bed, in the bedroom where he had first awoken, but they were of no comfort to him, they spoke of a world that was completely unfamiliar to him.

A strange, new world, and as he looked at the foreign pictures and read the unbelievable words, he felt as though he had stepped in some alternative reality, crossed the line to Twilight zone, or even fallen through some rabbit hole...

Yet, this 'rabbit hole' led not to wonderland, but to some kind of hell dimension, where everything that he knew was present, but changed in some abhorrent way, that made this world and what he knew of it distrustful, scary and just plain wrong.

In this world, the Death Eaters were the 'good guys'. Not good, per se, oh no… they admitted to the entire world they had indeed committed many crimes, but those were all for their cause… which apparently was equality! Equality my ass! How could people buy into this shit!

But they did! In all the papers he read, there were descriptions of manifestations, protests at the doors of the Ministry and many other places of reference for the Magical people across Britain.

Protests against everything! Against the Death Eaters and their use of Dark Magic, yes, but also protests by common people against the restrictions on the use of Dark Magic! Protests against the insertion of muggle-borns in the magical society, and in favor of the insertion of muggle-borns!

There was even a protest originated by the goblins at Gringotts, who had apparently sent dignitaries to the Ministry, with armfuls of written complaints against the persistency of warfare in magical Britain! The goblins had threatened to close doors to the public until the Ministry took measures to ensure the end of… 'Unintelligent hostilities between magical folk, which had no specific purpose, and caused monetary deficiencies and unnecessary risk for the Goblin population in Britain.'

It was Anarchy! There was Chaos everywhere! And of course it didn't help manners that the Ministry continuously made statements in several news articles affirming that there was no cause for alarm, there was indeed no war and no danger in Magical Britain.

Harry laughed, _sure and the constant maim and death of people, the dark marks everywhere, and the overall panic, were all just a fruit of peoples' imaginations, some group hallucination perhaps?_

Stupidly enough, the Ministry had ignored the warning and the Goblins had indeed closed doors for an indefinite period of time!

Of course that state of affairs hadn't lasted long, and soon enough the people were rebelling against the ministry and the lack of any efficient action against the constant attacks to both private and public property.

There were even some newspapers with detailed descriptions of outdoor, all-out battles, between many acknowledged public figures, which Harry read were known Death Eaters, Ministry employees and Order Members.

Those appeared to be the three sides in this war: Voldemort and his Death Eaters, aka the Dark Side; Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix Members, aka the Light Side; and The Minister and his bunch of stupid assholes in denial, aka the Stupid Side.

Mostly the newspapers related the series of events that had let to the victory of the Dark Side, not a complete victory, but a victory of sorts.

There was obviously much resistance in Britain but nothing major, after Dumbledore's death and the capture of most if not all the remaining Order Members.

So right now Voldemort's problems, from what Harry understood from his readings, were basically: to pass an image of unity and peaceful recovery to the rest of the Magical World, who was gravely distraught over the war in Britain. To convince the Goblins to reopen doors and to persuade the citizens of Britain that they were better now, under Voldemort's ruling.

Harry also discovered that apparently he was dead. Or at least that was what the magical world believed since his body had been recovered by the Order and shown in a rather graphic picture in one of his last newspapers. But according to the grapevine, his body had been cursed and ironically ended up causing the death of Dumbledore.

The Order's status of secrecy wasn't that good but from then on it got really messed up. On and on, there was, what harry could only call, bad publicity. The Order had really become the punching bag for everyone. It got so bad that they began to be individually pursued by the public in general as the real causers of this war, and the obvious bad guys.

Tough… from everywhere he looked he could clearly see that Voldemort had indeed really won, and if that was true, that he, Harry, must truly have been on the Dark Side, for why else would he still be alive?

-XD-

Meanwhile In the Dungeons…

"Ah! Dear Severus… we've known each other for what? 20 years, almost 30! No other man compares to you, Sev" he said, making the most sincere face he could. He stood on the other side of the table so he could look at the Severus as he calmly continued to brew.

Severus actually laughed.

"You always say that, and I never know if I should ask you how you come up with this stuff or if you actually mean any of it, Lucius?" he said, with a smirk.

Lucius looked indignant and hurt.

"I was being sincere. I only say it because I mean it!" he said. "No one compares to you, Sev. You're intelligent, fun…"

"… If you say beautiful I'll gag," Severus concluded for him, picking up the newt's eyes and dropping them in the caldron.

He moved closer to the table where Severus worked, he wore a small pout. "But you are beautiful! In fact, I've always found you very…"

"I know exactly your opinion of me, Lucius" Severus interrupted. "We are going to remain as friends."

Lucius raised his eyebrows at him hopefully.

"Friends without privileges," he amended.

Lucius clutched his heart with both hands, an agonized look on his handsome face.

"Ah, you wound me to the heart Sev," he gasped.

"Do you want me to brew you some healing potion?" he replied nonchalantly.

"Sev, I know I harmed you, it is one of my worse regrets…

"Oh, really? I didn't know you had any!"

"You know me better than that, you…"

"… yes you are right I do know you better than that, I know you very well, in fact I probably know you better than you know yourself! And I don't care! I don't care about that, about you, for you! Not anymore!"

"Sev!"

"Stop calling me by that stupid nickname! We are friends because I respect you and all you've taught me, because you've protected me in several occasions, and because once upon a time we had something. Feelings, I guess we could call it that, if not for each other, at least I had them for you! And then you betrayed me and in doing so, lost the right to call me by that blasted nickname! Do I have to remind you that it was you who broke up with me?"

"I know, I remember, I… It was for your own good, I… I had my reasons…"

"Don't you, always!" by now Severus was yelling, the potion completely forgotten "You went and married Narcissa, for Merlin's sake! Not wanting to diminish that woman, who I happen to respect a lot, after all, she has bared with you and your stream of lovers, for more than twenty years, and she did give you an heir, my godson, and I know you care for him even more than I do, so don't come and tell me you regret it! You don't and even if you did, it wouldn't matter because I don't! Shit!" the potion had started to burn and bubble over, Severus lowered the fire and put some herbs in it, after a couple of stressed moments he turned off the fire and drew out his wand vanishing the potion.

"This is ridiculous! It's ruined! I hadn't ruined a potion this easy, since fifth year! And it's all your fault! Get out of here!"

"Now calm down Severus, I… you need some time to think about this, about us..."

"There's never going to be anything between us ever again, and you're getting out of my Lab in this instant!"

Lucius leaned forward over the table, "Do you care to bet on that?"

Severus also leaned towards Lucius until he was really close.

Their eyes locked and noses almost touched.

Severus let out a very malicious little smirk.

He flicked his wand, and Lucius was pulled up in the air and quickly shoved out the door.

Lucius came to his senses with the sound of the door to Severus' Lab, banging behind him.

He couldn't help seeing the irony in the situation, since that had been precisely the same spell he had used to break up with Severus, a little over twenty years ago.

-XD-

6 months later…

Harry Potter walked in the massive library at the early hours of morning, as it had become a habit of his.

He sat in one of the armchairs in the room and stared at the empty fireplace. He then took out a pocket-sized little notebook. He had begun this interesting new habit of writing down his memories after that incident, a year ago, in which he had woken up without his memories. These past year had been a complicated one, and he never wished to experience _that_ ever again. To this day, he still had no memory of the past two years of his life, before the _incident,_ but he was now 17 years old, legally and magically an adult, he could not mope around forever, stuff happens right?

He had a new motto for his life: "Live in the today, 'cause you can end up forgetting half of your life tomorrow."

He opened his little notebook, and stared at the list of sentences there engraved.

There was no description of his memories there, and yet for him there was. He had indeed begun to write down his memories but in such a way that only he would understand.

He would write a sentence in Latin, for every major memory.

And as he fixed his green eyes on at the sentences, he smiled.

…

-XD-

**nosce te ipsum (know thyself)**

The Mansion… Harry learned many things about Voldemort's Mansion.

The first real home he ever had outside Hogwarts, and strangely enough, the mansion had many similarities with Hogwarts, Harry soon realized that this mansion too, was alive in a way. Everything in it seemed to have a way, a personal style and order, and everything seemed somehow connected to his master, like it was a part of him.

The portraits spoke only to and by Voldemort's direct orders. The domestic elf, the only one he was familiar with, appeared to be female and called Inky, she had informed him after much probing that there were indeed more elves in the house but they all obeyed only her commands or her master's, and they had been ordered to remain hidden at all times, which Harry could only assume was true because he never set eyes in any domestic elf apart from Inky, during the length of his entire stay in the Mansion.

The many halls and rooms of the mansion were structured in such a way that it was impossible, at least for Harry, to discover exactly how many they were. The corridors were labyrinths, in which he always got lost and ended up having to call for Inky to redirect him to his room. He had learned fast that the pictures in the portraits could switch with each other at any given time and would do so fairly often, for no other apparent reason than to piss him off and get him lost.

Most of the rooms weren't occupied, yet they did not seem abandoned, they were all clean and looked ready to live in. Somehow he had expected Voldemort's "home" to be a scary, forsaken, desolated place, with dark broody corners, cheeky decaying furniture and lots of grime and cobwebs. Maybe even some dried blood stains and bats just hanging from the ceiling.

Instead, there were huge foot-to-ceiling windows, with long black curtains, that were always open, letting in either the sun or the moon light. Except on Death Eaters meeting days'. He knew those days right away, Inky would tell him he was being restricted to the third floor, in which his room was located, for the duration of the meeting, about two to three hours, and during this time all the curtains around the third floor would be closed. So would all the doors. And stairs. Magically closed, not even sound would pass through. Harry was never claustrophobic, being raised in a cupboard and all that, but he always felt quite constricted on those times. Like a prisoner, which Voldemort insisted he wasn't, and remarkably he didn't felt like… most of the time... Well, at least after the first couple of weeks.

**-XD-**

**Est modus in rebus (There is a middle ground in things)**

The first days had been disastrous. He had started in complete denial and worked from there.

He had acted like a child, threw tantrums, tried to run away from the mansion, only to realize the grounds had a barrier of sorts and he always ended up exactly where he started. He had tried to hide, which was by itself a stupid idea, and only grew stupider by the fact that the domestic elf kept finding him for every meal, which he took in the room he had come to consider as his own.

As for Voldemort… he showed up once in a while to talk with Harry, or try to at least.

Harry had screamed at him, thrown things, glared, accused him of being Satan, attacked him, and finally just ignored him and refused to acknowledge is presence.

Remarkably, Voldemort had seemed to understand… in a way.

Though he did not take kindly to the attacking part. Nop, that was definitely an issue there.

Until finally, one day, Harry had overheard _that_ talk, between Snape, Malfoy and Voldemort.

"Why are you keeping him here? It's ridiculous! He's a sixteen years old pain in the ass!"

"It's just a phase" replied Voldemort dismissively. "Give him time, he'll get over it."

"Yes, I'm sure he will, I've no doubts of that, what I doubt is how much time do we have." Snape said. "The people rebel against you!"

"It is to be expected, in view of the circumstances; you cannot take rule of a country by force and expect the people of it to gladly abide by your ruling. We had predicted these insurgences.

"Although that was to be indeed expected, we had counted with some aid from Mr. Potter's hero-status, and this delay is curbing our time in a vital manner. Britain will not survive as the capital of the Magical World without a firm ruling, especially now, and with this little setback in your plans my Lord, I'm afraid we might not have enough time before the ambassadors arrive." said Malfoy.

"It will have to do." Voldemort was seated, as was Malfoy, while Snape paced around the room. "If Mr. Potter is indeed not ready in time, then I'm afraid our plans must be rearranged accordingly. I cannot force his support of my ruling, of our beliefs."

Snape stopped right in front of Voldemort's armchair. "Actually there are a couple of potions, or if you are feeling unimaginative,_ Imperious_ is always a…"

"No. That would spoil the all point of it…" began Voldemort.

"…Besides the ambassadors would know." finished Malfoy.

Voldemort nodded.

"Please tell me you have a contingency plan, and that all our prayers are _not_ resting on Mr. Potter." Continued Snape sarcastically.

"I have no plan. I need no plan. There is no plan or scheme to my hold of power over Magical Britain.

My rule is absolute, my word is law, my power is above all else, that is the way it is, and it is going to be from now on, and the sooner the people begin to realize that, the better. I will lead the willing and drag the unwilling."

"That is all very well, but if the ambassadors from the rest of the Wizarding World see mutiny and riots, not even all your strength will appease them. If they see you and your ruling as a danger to them My Lord, they will seek to destroy you, and our forces are not yet recovered from fighting here in Britain, we cannot fight the world." said Malfoy.

Voldemort just smirked at Malfoy.

Malfoy let out his own smirk. "At least not yet."

"In the future when Britain is safe and prosper again, they will thank me for this act and forget the manner in which I did it. (1) If need be, I will give them peace with an iron fist. They will live by my rule or die by it. But for now, we will wait, for Mr. Potter."

"We will wait eternally if you ask me, he's an idiot!" said Snape.

Harry stopped listening at that point. He had gotten the gist of it. Somehow they expected his support to appease the masses. He had read in the newspapers, his supposed death had been a giant hit to the Wizarding World. He had also read that the martyr idea Dumbledore had planned for him, had been followed and most if not all of the rebellious blocks were acting in his name, the name of the Boy-Who-Lived.

So things would go a little like: 'well if Potter was on their side all along, then maybe they can't be all that bad!'

Damn! But that made no sense; he couldn't see what they wanted him to do, to say to the people that would somehow convince them that they were better off with Voldemort in power. But somehow, it would save a bunch of people from getting killed, from dying in his name.

Oh, well… he had done stupider things in life. And it was about time he stopped sulking around.

-XD-

That had not been one of his smarter moves, but it had been inevitable.

He read the next sentence with a sight.

-XD-

**Audi et alteram partem (Hear the other side too) **

"So, how bad are things and when exactly are these ambassadors coming?" asked Harry while barging into the library, where Voldemort, Malfoy and Snape were having one of their numerous arguments.

"I love how he's always so informed!" said Lucius.

"Yeah, right…" said Severus.

Harry ignored them and just stared straight at Voldemort. They stared at each other for a couple of moments and then Voldemort spoke.

"I'm assuming this means you are ready to collaborate with us?"

"In a way." answered Harry.

"Then let's talk business."

From then on, things had kind of jumped up fast.

Malfoy had conjured a armchair, Harry had sat down, Snape had sulked in his own armchair and Voldemort had talked, and talked, and just when you thought he was finished, he had talked some more .

He had explained the all deal, exactly how the wizarding world was dealing with the Dark Side's victory in Britain, how the people in Britain were dealing with it, he had even given Harry a list of all the members of the Order the Death Eaters had killed, captured, still held in custody, and the ones who were still out there, and they believed were leading some of the major blocks of rebellion.

Apparently the problem for the rest of the magical world was not so much who had won the war, but how that would affect the economy, the emigration rates, Britain's status as capital of the wizarding world, and the many other political issues that would arise from this new political system Voldemort intended to install.

In fact, the political system itself was not even viewed as a real problem, by the WW, many countries did not have a minister and ministry, many were ruled by royalty and there were dictators in some others. Even the new laws on Dark magic usage, and the new method Voldemort intended to use with Britain's dealing with the muggle world, which was total segregation, could be easily accepted by the WW and their many ambassadors.

If only there was political peace, a sense of normality, the only thing they were really scared of was another continuous war like the one 16 years ago, and the one with Gridenwald before that.

For as long as the majority of people wanted only the acceptance of light magic and the insertion with the muggle world, then even if the political system, if the ruling hand intended otherwise, it would not be possible.

There could only be war.

-XD-

**Ab absurdo** - _From the absurd (establishing the validity of your argument by pointing out the absurdity of your opponent's position)_

Harry stared at them for a while.

He wasn't stupid, he knew exactly what they expected of him and for some strange, deluded reason they believed he was going to do it.

_Boy, were they insane or what? Ok, scratch that, they were obviously insane, but why would they think he was insane too?_

He looked at them…_ they were serious. This was for real and not some elaborate plan to humiliate him or to drive him crazy._

He thought about everything they had been telling him, he add it all up with the knowledge he already had and he came up with… a huge headache.

_Damn! He was so confused, he just didn't know, he had no memory, and yet as he looked at Voldemort and recalled his words he could not stop himself from admitting it made sense- Damn! _

He looked straight at Voldemort, and guess what? Barring that natural expression of villainy which we all have, the man looked honest enough. (2)

"So, let me see if I got this right," Harry began "you're not going to try to kill me again? I am in fact on your side, support everything you do and that's alright 'cause although not the good guys, you aren't dangerous either?"

"Yep, we're harmless as kittens." said Malfoy.  
"More so," continued Snape. "Kittens have claws and piss on things indiscriminately."(3)

"But you killed thousands of people!"

"A single death is a tragedy, millions of deaths are a statistic." answered Voldemort.

"Besides" said Lucius "Many of us believe that wrongs aren't wrong if they're done by nice people like ourselves."

"But that's ridiculous; people will never accept you or your ruling."

"Then they'll die." Said Voldemort. "Come now Harry, you certainly didn't believe in all that crap about the Goodness of the Light Side and how evil we all Dark Side as the boogeyman is what is ridiculous. When it comes to magic, the only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. (4)

And a man with power, Harry, can do anything. I can do anything, including making this country what it was meant to be. Powerful, noble, rich and great, truly great, not this sad prejudiced excuse for a magical society, we have now.  
What I can't do though is wait any longer; we are, as you've learned,"

"No doubt from listening on doors," muttered Snape.

Voldemort continued. "we are on a tight schedule, our 'dead line' so to speak, is fast approaching, not only on us but on Britain. If we don't manage this… rebels" he made a face like he had just tasted something disgusting "if _you_ don't manage them, then we are doomed, and so is Britain, we'll probably be annexed by some other country,"

"The States, most likely," said Lucius. "They will invade our country and raid our possessions. Eventually they will occupy our government like a plague. We will be nothing, but one more State, that is, if we even reach that status of equality. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if they decided we should be a province."

Voldemort nodded and finished, "For the greater good, of course."

Voldemort got up, walked around the table to stand in front of Harry and said:

"There is an old adage we say to people, 'May you live in troubled times', and Harry," he sighted "this are troubled times, you can't deny it, so are you with us or against us?"

"Oh, I have a choice? The way you are making it sound, it doesn't seem so." answered Harry.

"A choice? But of course… there is always a choice. Everything can be taken from man but one thing: the last of human freedoms—to choose one's own attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way. (5) You see Harry; I am a great apologist for freedom. So yes, you could choose to be against us.

"In which case, you will kill me."

"Yep" said Lucius

Severus muttered something that sounded remarkably like, "Finally".

And Voldemort said, "Of course."

"So I could _choose_ certain death." Continued Harry. (6)

"A choice nevertheless. You see at the bottom, at the very bottom of ourselves; we are not Homo-sapiens at all. Our core is madness. The prime directive is murder. What Darwin was too polite to say, Harry, is that we came to rule the earth not because we were the smartest, or even the meanest, but because we have always been the craziest, most murderous motherfuckers in the jungle."(7)

"You can't ask me to go and try to convince people of that!" Harry said.

"Ah! I can do anything I see fit."

"But I don't believe in it! I don't agree with your policy or your beliefs, I hate the Dark Side and I hate you!"

"Yes, it's about time you stop with that childish enmity is it not?"

"You killed my parents!" yelled Harry.

"And the parents of thousands of others, and their sons and daughters. War casualties. I would like to remind you that your precious _Dumbledore_ and his Order of Annoying Chickens on Fire, killed just as many. Some of my Death Eaters have families too, you know. You accepted those deaths."

"When I believe in a thing, I believe in it all the way, implicitly and unquestionably. Even if I don't necessarily agree with all their actions, I must believe in their motives, in their aims. I can't defend something I don't believe in."

Voldemort, Lucius and Severus looked at each other, and said: "Gryffindors…"

"Fine. Whatever. I will do it, for the greater good, right?"

"No, never that… For our good, for the good of Britain, for your own good if you wish. But I would never presume to know what the greater good is, much less proclaim my decisions and actions are in its behalf. Unlike some people we are not hypocrites."

Harry began to answer, "Can I think,-"

"No." Severus interrupted

Harry rolled his eyes, "-about this?"

"Sure."

-XD-

Harry sighted, and with that it had been settled. Malfoy and Snape had prepared him for about two weeks, by the end of which the ambassadors would come and he would have to do a speech to the people, that supposedly would keep everyone calm long enough for the ambassadors to observe. Then they would all have dinner, and go back to whatever countries they came from, with only good things to say about Britain and Voldemort's ruling.

Sounds easy? Well it wasn't.

He read the next sentence.

-XD-

**Ad captandum vulgus** - _To appeal to the crowd –- by any means (often used by politics)_

Harry stared outside the window; there was a big crowd outside. Damn, he had almost hoped no one would come, but of course they had.

As soon as the news of his remarkable 'recovery' from the doors of death, had hit the Daily Prophet, the citizens of magical Britain had been busy like bees, and as hard as it was to admit it, Voldemort had been right. The grapevine had one common attitude; everyone was waiting on the very edge of their seats, for his opinion.

They would stand were he stood.

He just had to go up there and say he was okay with the new regime, swear his alliance to the dark side and every one of those people would suddenly say "hum, if he says so."

Sad, simply sad.

THUMP!

THUMP!

THUMP!

Well, maybe not everyone.

They were at the Ministry; he would have to give his speech anytime now. The Ministry Atrium was empty, but soon enough it would be completely crowded with the mob outside the doors. Many were reporters, and the majority were just regular, everyday people, but in the middle of this multitude were also numerous rebels, the leaders of the groups of revolt were definitely out there. Just waiting for him to confirm their beliefs and say he was a prisoner of the Dark Side, for them to begin yet another uprising. With him, leading the revolution.

And they were banging on the doors.

THUMP!

_Come on, Harry the crowd is waiting! _

THUMP!

"They are like barbarians." said Lucius.

"Indeed" said Voldemort.

"Are you sure this is going to work? That crowd out there looks ready to start a riot." said Lucius.

Severus smirked, "Hum, really? Then why don't we let Potter deal with this? It is after all, why he's here, to deal with the rebels… but then again, he's about as useful as a one-legged man at an arse-kicking contest."

"You are indeed correct Severus. Harry there are barbarians at the door, what should we do?-" said Voldemort.

Harry sighted, it was show time, "- just let them in. They are barbarians, they are getting in anyway…"

-XD-

There were so many people!

He had just left the room where they had gathered. Voldemort and Snape remained behind closed doors, but Malfoy was in the podium in front of him, where he was supposed to give a speech that ought to bring peace to Britain, a speech which Malfoy and Snape had spend the past weeks drilling into him.

A speech which was a bunch of fabrications and idiotic 'play-nice-for-the-people', a speech which resumed itself to smiling widely and lying trough his teeth, the speech that was going to make him once again into a pawn, the only difference was the side he was going to be playing for.

A speech he could not give.

And Harry had decided that, in the few moments in which he'd waited there and listened while Malfoy described how he had supposedly always be working in league with the Dark Side, how he supported Voldemort's ruling and why he was only speaking to the public now.

Apparently, he had been suffering the effects of some curse and was still in recovery.

Right.

Malfoy was really handling the crowd. They were all very quiet. Well, he had been expecting that.

But he didn't expect them to be so quiet once it was his turn.

He was so dead.

If the crowd didn't kill him, then _they_ would.

They, who? Well, Malfoy's glare at him while he took the podium was enough to guess.

Harry looked at the people. And the chaos began.

Everyone started asking questions, flashes from the magical cameras blinded him and the noise! Harry could barely hear himself think.

He took a deep breath _'Come on Harry, man up, you were expecting this, just keep breathing and don't let them see you sweat'_ and he began at the top of his voice,

"I don't like Dark Wizards. I'm going to take a stand and say they're not good."

The crowd quieted down almost immediately. In the deafening silence, Harry could literally feel Malfoy's stare digging a hole into his back.

Oh, well… in for a penny, in for a pound…

He continued, but lowering his voice to a tranquil, more composed tone.

"But just because I don't necessarily agree with someone's lifestyle, it doesn't mean I should fear it or demonize it and I'm certainly not going to ban it. I am not a dark wizard, I never was and honestly I have no intentions of ever being, but that does not mean that I can't see injustice or that I am blind to prejudice! Now, the use of Dark Magic is not illegal, and never was. Yet many people seem to believe it is. Out of ignorance and ill-will."

The crowd attacked like a raging pack of wolfs.

Outraged screams and all.

"Yes! It is mostly used by criminals, you say, but 'When catapults are outlawed, only outlaws will have catapults'. What I mean is that many of the times they are only criminals because they use dark magic. Which once again, I stress is_ not_ against the law!"

The crowd raged even louder, he heard a cry of: "If it isn't, it damn well, should be!" immediately followed by many agreeing ones.

"I repeat this and I'll repeat it as many times as it takes for _everyone-_" and at this he looked directly at the faces he recognized from the files Malfoy had shown him, to help him identify the leaders of the rebels. He wasn't surprised to notice that the cry had come from one of them "- to get the idea: what is, in fact, a crime, is incitement to hatred."

Another uproar. Harry continued in the same even tone.

"All incitements to hatred should be treated with the same zero tolerance. But not, in my opinion, by means of criminal sanctions. Free speech is precious. It should be limited only in exceptional circumstances - when it slips into inciting violence and murder.

Now, inciting murder is a criminal offence under long-standing magical laws. Magical Laws that have been around since long before I or you all, were born.

Yet I walk down the street, only to see posters of '-Kill the Death Eaters-' and my personal favorite '-Dark Magic is evil. We must destroy it.-' And no one does a thing.

The citizens of Britain have never before taken such a hands-off approach to people who incited violence against; let's say members of a certain Order who only uses Light Magic. Why the double standards now?

Likewise, some people belonging to several high positions in the Wizangot-"

Irate screams.

"- I will not point names, regardless, they _openly admit_ to have a policy of hunting down people who use Dark Magic, regardless if they are death eaters or not!

But why go so far? The Aurors' department admitted that on the course of this war they have followed a procedure of 'kill on sight' any Death Eaters! I don't want to state the obvious but Death Eaters are people, magical citizens of the Wizarding World. The same applies to all users of Dark Magic.

Where are the fair trials? The innocent until proven guilty? The equality?"

He made a pause here. The crowd was quiet and even the flashes of the magical cameras had paused.

"My own Godfather was denied a trial, when the simple use of Veritserum would have proven his innocence. But as there were proves of Dark Magic, and suspicions of being a Death Eater, nothing was done; instead we condemned an innocent man to 12 years in Azkaban. And to his eventual death, while still being persecuted. More double standards."

The non-prosecution of citizens of Magical Britain who incite the murder of people who use Dark Magic is a tragic betrayal of those people. They live in fear of the violence provoked by the discrimination against their magic, something that's intrinsic to their nature and that was born in their magical core."

Harry paused again, but this time due to the mayhem. He glared at the loudest ones, recognizing them from the files and when they continued with the exclamations of outrage, he continued with his speech, but lauder, he was flying high and there was nothing, short of the end of the world that could stop him now.

"Anyhow, no dark magic, not even forbidden curses cause the fundamental ills of our society. If we're looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn't search people for dark marks or dark magic, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power."

He had to pause again, not because of the noise for it had quieted down a little. He stopped for it finally hit him. He believed in what he was saying and not only had his speech totally diverged from what Malfoy and Snape had directed him to do, but it was a completely new speech, with new opinions. His opinions. And there was just one thing left to say.

"Introducing legislation for inclusion of Dark Magic Users seems a bit amiss when already-existing magical laws are not being enforced against the much more serious crimes of inciting violence and murder against these people. Please, do not worry citizens of the Wizarding World, we will ensure the enforcement of the current laws before we start introducing new ones."

Pandemonium everywhere and he calmly stepped out of the podium.

As he walked past Malfoy who waited by the podium, he could see an expression of shock, trying to break out of an otherwise completely impassive face.

The last thing he heard, before passing through the doors that led to the room where Voldemort, Snape and likable death awaited, was Malfoy's voice as he addressed the crowd once more:

"Ladies and Gentleman, members of the press...

I do believe, that is all."

-XD-

**A/N:** So what did you all think? It was slightly bigger than what you are used to! All for you my wonderful readers! REVIEW I command thee! Kidding! Or not, if it gets you all to review and not just add me to your alert list!

Oh! And you will meet the ambassadors in the next chapter. Also more smart!Harry.

And the romance begins there too! After all they'll be having lots of alone time! You know that with planning world domination and all…

(1) saw that in a movie: 'Elizabeth' about the story of the golden age of England. Very good movie.

(2) Mark Twain

(3) The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch

(4) Pirates of the Caribbean

(5) Viktor Frankl

(6) Yes, I know, if you have read "Going Postal" by Terry Pratchett you can see the similarities in this dialogue, but What the Hell! I *heart* Terry and the Discworld!

(7) Stephen King


End file.
